


Twenty-Five to Life

by neveralarch



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Minimus' emotional constipation vs Starscream's drama factory, pre-war/no-war AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: Or, When Primus Put Your Hand in Mine, There Weren't Supposed to Be Handcuffs.Starscream's on a short road to prison when he meets his sparkmate. Things can only get better from there.
Relationships: Dominus Ambus/Rewind, Minimus Ambus/Starscream
Comments: 70
Kudos: 173





	Twenty-Five to Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesdemonaKaylose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesdemonaKaylose/gifts).



> Happy (almost) friendversary to Dez!! The last year has been totally amazing and inspirational and also I never would've written a Minimus/Starscream epic if it wasn't for you. Thanksssss
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by [Welcome! Everything is Fine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17581694/chapters/41440133). Reading that fic isn't at all necessary to understand this one, but, why wouldn't you want to?
> 
> This fic contains classism, lots of swearing, brief instances of sexual harassment, and kissing. Please let me know if you need any details.

Starscream kept his wings low and an apologetic smile pasted on his faceplate. So sorry about the trouble, isn't this terrible, just an awful mistake. Hopefully we can clear it up quickly and then we can all go home, won’t that be nice?

It was a good smile. He'd practiced it in jail, since he hadn't had anything else to do.

It wasn't working on the sawed-off little green prosecutor. Starscream tried harder.

"Stop staring," said Starscream's _useless_ public defender, Synapse. "You know who that is, don't you?"

"Of course!" snapped Starscream, even though he'd ignored all of the annoying ID pings when he'd been shoved into the waiting room by the bailiff. His HUD tried to prompt him with the mech's ID tag. Starscream ignored that too. Who _cared_ who the prosecutor was? Just a tool of the corrupt system trying to bring Starscream down.

Synapse elbowed him. "I said stop staring. Come on, we're going in."

Starscream rubbed the little orange mark Synapse had left on his armor (cheap paint, a disgrace), and forced down a scowl as he stood up. Confused and embarrassed at the attention. Confused and embarrassed at the attention. That was what he needed to project. He fell into line behind the prosecutor, already rehearsing the speech he planned to give on the witness' stand.

His HUD pinged Starscream again. Primus, what did it think was _so_ important about the mech? Starscream studied the delicate struts of his back. Nothing special, just another well-off aftkisser who couldn't be bothered to keep up with his own detailing. Oh, and his subspace was open.

Starscream wrestled briefly with temptation and, as usual, won.

It was easy to slip his talons into the little mech's subspace. No one would have ever noticed if it hadn't been for what felt like a bolt of lightning striking Starscream's circuits as notification after notification spilled onto his HUD.

"Holy shit," said Starscream.

"No," said the Honorable Senior City Prosecutor Minimus Ambus of Iacon, whose designation was currently being burned into Starscream's core drivers.

" _Holy shit_ ," gasped Starscream, delighted.

The doors to the courtroom were open. There was a little finicky judge sitting on a raised platform, waiting for them. Starscream didn't _care_.

"Your honor," called the Honorable Senior City Prosecutor Minimus Ambus of Iacon. "My most sincere apologies for the, the disturbance, but—"

"What exactly is happening out there?" quavered the little finicky judge.

"I'm afraid," said the Honorable Senior City Prosecutor Minimus Ambus of Iacon, "that the prosecution must recuse itself. The accused is my sparkmate."

\---

In a surprisingly short amount of time, Starscream had a new court date, bail—paid by _his sparkmate_ —and was sitting in a fancy transport, staring adoringly at—

"Do I have to call you by your entire ID tag?" asked Starscream.

"Minimus Ambus will suffice," said the Primus-ordained love of his life.

"Ambus, Ambus, Minimus Ambus," Starscream repeated, trying out the feel of the syllables. He liked them. Obviously. Their sparks were uniquely drawn together, spinning at a complementary frequency that harmonized with the pulse of the universe. Of course he would like his sparkmate’s _name_. "And where are we going?"

"My apartment," said Minimus Ambus. 

"Ooh." Starscream snuggled down sideways into the plush seats, turning fully to face Minimus Ambus. "Moving fast, aren't we?"

Minimus Ambus froze, mouth slightly open. Adorable. "I didn't mean," he choked out, "that is. I simply assumed that we'd go to my apartments to become better acquainted. But if you'd prefer to return to your own home—accompanied by me, of course, you were released only on my recognizance—"

Starscream thought about taking this classy little snack back to the studio he shared with Thundercracker and Skywarp. The one with the holes punched in the outside wall for ventilation and a corner rigged with a bucket for a washrack. _And_ a closet stuffed with those bootlegged datapads Thundercracker swore he'd make a profit on someday.

Starscream had spent a couple centuries looking for his sparkmate. He shook hands with everyone he met, and flared his wings in crowds so he could brush people's plating as they walked by. He'd even attended a few of those big 'find your other half' gatherings, where everyone milled around nudging each other with big hopeful optics. 

He'd wanted it so badly. Someone who _had_ to love you, unconditionally, and wouldn't care if you used up the last of their polish or forgot to buy groceries again. And now he'd _got_ one.

"No," said Starscream. "I think my previous life is dead to me now, Mimsy. I'm ready for my new beginning with the most wonderful mech on the planet."

"Please don't call me Mimsy," said Minimus Ambus.

"Amby?" offered Starscream.

"Minimus," said Minimus. "Ambus is my house name, you needn’t use it except in the most formal of settings. I dislike nicknames, however. My personal designation is brief enough."

Cogsucker had a house! Like a family house! Aristocracy! Primus, Starscream really was getting everything he'd always deserved. He beamed at his sparkmate and flickered his wings, trying to convey that he was ready to be the best fawning consort Cybertronian high society had ever seen.

Minimus coughed. "Why were you fingering my subspace?" 

Starscream flickered his wings some more. "I was just—instinctively _drawn_ to you. I just had to touch your _perfect_ armor."

Minimus gave him a flat prosecutorial look. Fuck, sparkmates really could see through to your true self, huh? 

Starscream ground his gears a little and reluctantly allowed some honesty to shine through. "Your subspace was open, and, well. I just thought it'd be helpful to have your wallet, Mins."

"In what possible way would that help you?"

"I figured when I spoke in my own defense I'd just pull the wallet out," said Starscream. "Like, does _this_ look familiar to anyone?"

"So, you were going to admit to petty theft," said Minimus. "At your trial for grand larceny. From the witness' stand."

Starscream groaned. "Please, how stupid do you think I am? I was going to accuse you of being my coconspirator. Could you _imagine_ the headlines? Cause a huge scandal, force a new trial—I like this _so_ much better. I'm so glad we found out our sparks were _calling_ for each other—"

Minimus had one hand over his optics and the other tightly squeezing his knee, so Starscream took the hint and shut up.

The transport was basically a big cushy sofa anyway, and his frame was aching a little from where the courthouse medics had put in the tracking chip and renewed the locks on his weapons systems. Maybe he'd take a nap.

\---

" _So_ ," said Dominus over the comm, his voice smooth and amused, "tell me _all_ about your new beloved."

"He's a habitual criminal and a very bad liar," said Minimus. "I spent _three weeks_ gathering evidence in his case! I was ready to send him to a reformatory for at least a decade!"

"Well, I hope you're hiring him a good defense lawyer," said Dominus. "What a pity if you were separated as quickly as you were united!"

Minimus had, in fact, sent comms to several of his old classmates from law school who now practicing defense attorneys, but he wasn't interested in giving Dominus more ammunition with which to make fun of him. 

"It's not as if he's innocent," said Minimus. "Just because he's my sparkmate doesn't mean he can—"

"Was it a bank robbery?" asked Dominus. "A financial scheme? A _murderer_?"

"He robbed an arms factory," said Minimus.

Dominus gasped. "A terrorist!"

"An _arms factory_ repeated Minimus. "He was caught trying to sell black market fists."

Dominus laughed, and Minimus seethed. Oh, it was all very well for Dominus. Rewind might have been a member of the disposable class before they'd found each other, but he was a very respectable documentary filmmaker now. His background only added a little risqué pathos to his character, a little charm to his conversation.

Starscream, on the other hand, had clearly sunken even lower with every step he'd taken off the factory floor. What did this say about Minimus, that Primus thought _this_ was the match to his spark? Surely nothing good.

Starscream was also, Minimus thought sourly, very tall. On the occasions Minimus had allowed himself to ponder on the possibilities of his future sparkmate—which were rare—he'd always hoped that he and his sparkmate would be of a height, like Dominus and Rewind. Perhaps his sparkmate would even be smaller, someone he could cherish, and who would cherish him in return. Without ever being tempted to pick him up.

Starscream was probably even now plotting to _carry_ Minimus at the first opportunity.

"Well, I won't keep you," said Dominus. "Go get acquainted with your sparkmate. Gaze at him. Memorize his features. Fuck his processor out."

" _What_?" squawked Minimus.

"But you _have_ to come to dinner," said Dominus. "We just have to meet him. Are you free this weekend?"

"Nnnn," began Minimus, but he knew that he was, and _Dominus_ knew that he was, the only reason Dominus had even asked was to try and trick him into a lie. "I'm free," ground out Minimus, and hung up the comm before Dominus could make any further obscene suggestions.

He stepped out of the berthroom where he'd briefly taken refuge, and found Starscream still sitting on the couch, staring around the living room with his hands tucked into his lap as if he was afraid to touch. At least he could be trusted not to break things. Someone had either trained him well, or he’d onlined with basic manners programming.

"I hope you haven't been bored," said Minimus. "I just had to tell my brother the—the happy news."

"I'm fine," said Starscream. "How much did you pay for that painting?"

Minimus glanced at it. "I'm not sure. It was a gift."

"It's a forgery," said Starscream, as if that was something you just said to people.

Minimus was startled into giving the painting a longer look. It was an impressionist depiction of the Iacon Hall of Records, given to him by his mentor Tyrest upon his promotion to Senior City Prosecutor. 

"I'm afraid you must be mistaken," he said. "Perhaps you're not familiar with the artist? I've heard that she's reclusive, one of these colonists—"

"Yeah," said Starscream. "That's why Rattrap likes doing her stuff, she never shows up to contradict him. He's one of the best artists in the business—it's almost impossible to tell the difference based just on the art. But—this is going to sound ridiculous—he always gnaws the edges. Can't help himself. Right there, do you see it? There."

Minimus peered at where the canvas met the frame. He could, in fact, see something that uncomfortably resembled toothmarks.

"Anyway, having a genuine Rattrap forgery is nearly as good as the real thing," said Starscream, brightly. "If you want more, I can hook you up."

"Why would I want more?" asked Minimus. What was he going to _say_ to Tyrest? Perhaps—perhaps he simply wouldn't mention it. Oh no, he wouldn't be able to look Tyrest in the face and not say anything. Perhaps he'd never speak to Tyrest again.

“You don’t have to _tell_ people they’re fake,” said Starscream. “Anyway, this is a gorgeous apartment. It must have set you back, what, fifteen, twenty thousand shanix to get it decorated?"

"Twenty-five," said Minimus, still occupied with mentally severing ties with the mech to whom he owed his career.

"Oof," said Starscream. "Well, they did a nice job, even if they up-charged you. Hey, maybe that's what I can do for you! I mean, obviously this is a match ordained by Primus, but it could be even _more_ than that. We could _complete_ each other. I'm excellent with money, I can't wait to show you, Mins."

Minimus looked at Starscream's too-wide smile. "Yes," he said. "I'm sure you can't."

\---

Minimus—darling Minimus—took Starscream to a very classy restaurant for dinner. It wasn't the fanciest or the most expensive restaurant in Iacon. It was better than that. It had real copper paneling, fully sentient waiters, and booths filled with senators sitting around making deals and smoking cygars. There weren't any reservations. You simply gave your name and the host decided if you were good enough to be seated.

Minimus got a table gratifyingly quickly.

Starscream had always thought he could be a senator if he ever got the opportunity. If he'd stuck around in Vos long enough to really scale the social hierarchy. It was just grift, after all. He knew more than a few confidence tricks, and he knew how to sneak shanix into his pockets. What else did you need? A smile?

Starscream could've been a lot of things. He tried not to dwell on it. The science degree he'd almost gotten before he was kicked out for selling acid on the side. The military commission he'd almost received before they realized that he'd copied and resold all of his training software as soon as he'd been issued it. The job Megatron kept badgering him to take, offering resources and security if Starscream would stop wasting his time with petty crime and play in the big leagues.

Could’ve been didn’t matter anymore. The important thing was that he'd survived to be here, with the mech he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

"Are you ready to order?" asked the waiter. Minimus glanced at Starscream, a question in those cute little crimson optics.

"You can order for both of us," cooed Starscream. "I'm sure you know this place well."

Minimus looked down at the menu, flustered. "We'll have... two... highballs."

"Anything else?" asked the waiter. 

Minimus shook his head, and Starscream snatched the menu away from him.

"Give us the sampling platter of energon goodies," he said. "And an extra order of the cadmium. And, actually, instead of the highballs why don't you bring us a bottle of Cold Moon engex. Thank you _so_ much."

Minimus' facial insignia twitched as the waiter left. Starscream didn't understand why right away. It wasn't as if Minimus couldn't afford it. Any mech who could get fleeced for twenty-five k to redecorate his apartment had money spilling out of his optical sockets. But then he rolled the tape of his memory back and realized he _may_ have sounded a _little_ high-handed. Forged mechs didn’t like being bossed around by constructs.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, dimming his optics. "I didn't mean to steamroll you. Did you want a highball? We can call the waiter back, I'll—"

Minimus actually reached over and caught Starscream's wrist as he raised his hand. There wasn't a lightning bolt when they touched this time, but Starscream still fell static tingles traveling down his arm and into his core. He realized his mouth was still open just as Minimus let go.

"It's all right," Minimus said. "I'm afraid I was ordering at random. I actually haven't been here before. It was recommended by my brother."

"Your brother!" chirped Starscream, grateful for the change in topic. "Tell me all about him."

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say. Minimus' facial insignia twitched again and he looked down at the table.

"Dominus," he said slowly, "is very... likeable."

"Ugh, I can't stand likeable mechs," said Starscream. "They're just so _friendly_ and so _good_ at _conversation_. I enjoy," he racked his brains for something Minimus might relate to, "...reading. And sitting quietly. In the dark."

Jackpot! Minimus perked up immediately. "Yes, I also find that quiet contemplation is more rewarding than most mechs' typical entertainments. Partying, staring at a video screen..."

"And all of the vid programs are so frivolous!" said Starscream. "It's almost as if they don't care about, uh, logic, or _morals_."

"Exactly!" Minimus leaned over the table. "Completely devoid of intellectual merit!"

To be fair, that was one of the things Starscream liked about programs like 'Long Haulers' or 'Jumping the Sharkticon.' You could just sit there and stare at the screen and not think about anything at all.

"I don't even own a vid screen," Starscream lied. "Can't stand having them in the house."

“I keep one for the sake of company,” said Minimus. “But I would be happy to dispose of it.”

Starscream suppressed a wince. Well, it wasn't like he _needed_ vids. The important thing was that this was going well. His sparkmate was smiling at him, loving him exactly the way he was supposed to.

The waiter returned with the energon goodies and the engex bottle. He poured a sampling of engex in an etched balloon glass for Minimus, who stared at it bewildered until Starscream reached over the table and took it for himself.

"Passable," he decided. Fuck, it was the best shit he’d ever tasted. "Pour us the rest." Then he had to prompt the waiter as he only filled the glasses half-full: "And the rest."

This place was too nice for the waiter to even _look_ like he was judging. Starscream took another sip from his now-brimming glass, then picked up one of the delicately expensive energon goodies and popped it in his mouth. It fizzed. This, _this_ was the life he'd always known he was meant to lead. And apparently Primus agreed with him!

"Do you have any family?" asked Minimus.

Starscream thought about his trine. Probably sitting in that dirty little studio, waiting to hear if Starscream was coming back or if he was stuck in prison again. Or, more likely, they were out drinking and forgetting that Starscream had ever existed. "Not really to speak of," he said. "You know how it is for us poor, suffering, cold-constructs. You online in the factory, get shoved into a dead-end job that decides you're redundant after only a few years, and then you're out alone on the street, struggling to survive in any way that you can, falling in with the wrong crowd!" He pressed his hand to his cockpit and flickered his wings. "Just dreaming of someday meeting that sparkmate, that one true—"

Minius' optics were glazing, and Starscream fought down a scowl and picked up his glass.

"You don't need to listen to me blather," he said. "I'm just so _giddy_ with the _excitement_."

"Oh yes," said Minimus hurriedly. "It's very exciting. No family. Yes."

Minimus hadn't even touched his fuel. "I've got you now," said Starscream. “Hey, you should try this engex. It’s good shit.”

"In a moment." Minimus drummed his fingers on the table. "I've been contacting potential defense lawyers. I know you had a public defender, but—"

"Yeah, we can ditch him, he's gone." Starscream waved a hand. "I'm sure you can come up with someone better, Mins."

"I’ll do my best," said Minimus, stolidly. "Do you still plan to plead not guilty?"

"Of course!" said Starscream, and then realized that maybe, maybe his new prosecutor sparkmate might not take that for granted. "What, do you want me to throw myself on the mercy of the court?"

A series of emotions ran over Minimus' face. "A successful justice system relies on a tireless prosecution and a vigorous defense," he said. "No."

"Well, Iacon's got the prosecution part down," said Starscream. He'd almost gotten nailed for both the acid dealing and the training software scheme, would’ve served hard time if the prosecuting attorneys hadn’t suddenly and mysteriously gotten rust rashes and had to go on sabbatical. The system had _no_ interest in helping a working mech out.

"Thank you," said Minimus. "You know, you could've avoided this situation by simply refraining from armed robbery."

Starscream considered this. 'I needed the money to buy groceries so Skywarp would stop complaining' didn't sound like a good response. "Yes," he said instead. "It's all becoming clear to me. You're _such_ a good influence." He popped another energon goodie in his mouth. Oh, _Primus_ that melting mercury coating was life-changing. If he could have these every day, he really would give up on crime.

"Well, what's done is done," said Minimus. "In the interest of providing that vigorous defense, I'd like to engage Arcee of the Darklands. I went to law school with one of her legal assistants, and—"

"You know Arcee?" gasped Starscream. Images of a standing ovation from both judge and jury filled his processor. "The one who defended that Mesothulas guy who was building horrifying mech-monstrosities?

"Legally speaking," said Minimus, "he was not."

"I heard she made the prosecution _cry_!"

"I—" Minimus bit his lip. "I didn't—I merely was taken aback by her—"

"Mins, I don't know how to thank you!" Starscream reached over to clasp one of Minimus' hands and also to snag another one of those energon goodies. "Let's get another bottle."

Little static tingles went up Starscream's wrist again. Asbestos swirls coated his tongue. Minimus was _adorable_ and _clearly_ devoted to him.

"Is it too early to say that I love you?" asked Starscream.

"Hgkk," said Minimus, which probably meant 'of course not, I love you more than energon itself.'

\---

Starscream was a _little_ tipsy when they got back to Minimus' apartment, but he wasn't _drunk_. It was just that Minimus didn’t fuel much, so Starscream had had to finish off most of both the first and the second bottle of engex himself. He was still perfectly poised as he leaned heavily on the back of the couch and put one hand on Minimus' chest. 

"So," he breathed. "Where's the berthroom?"

"Ah," said Minimus, gently peeling Starscream's hand away from his plating. "I've made the berth in the spare room. I hope that will be sufficient?"

"Oh, Mins, you didn't have to do that." Starscream strobed his optics coquettishly, then had to stop when it made him dizzy. "I'm sure your berth is big enough for both of us."

"It is not," said Minimus. "It's quite small. But the spare berth is large enough for almost any guest." He guided Starscream out of the living room with a hand on the small of his back. Starscream tried to dawdle, tried to squirm so that Minimus' hand would slip a few inches lower, but Minimus was strangely forceful for such a small mech.

If Starscream was trying to _sell_ this, he'd babble something about Minimus being _irresistible_ , but come on. How the fuck was Minimus pushing him like that? Starscream had to weigh eight or nine times as much as Minimus' compact little frame. Maybe he _was_ drunk. 

Starscream soon found himself deposited on a large berth in a spacious berthroom. The room tipped oddly, and he reluctantly toyed with the idea of engaging his FIM chip until he realized it was just the mirror on the ceiling playing with his vision.

"Does your berthroom have a mirror like that?" he asked.

Some cogs in Minimus' jaw clicked. "It was placed by the previous owners of the apartment," he said. "I was told it would be costly to remove. Do you need anything before I turn in for the night? Some coolant?"

Starscream gazed up into Minimus' burnished red optics. "A kiss?" he suggested, trying for sweet this time.

Minimus dimmed his optics, bent, and placed a chaste kiss squarely in the middle of Starscream's helm. "Goodnight," he said, and left Starscream sitting on the berth, _alone_.

Well. At least the berth was soft and Starscream's tank was full. He could work on this 'alone' nonsense tomorrow.

\---

Starscream woke up the next morning with a processor ache and a grim determination to win whatever courtship game Minimus was trying to play. Chaste helm kisses? Chaste helm kisses? Starscream would show him _chaste helm kisses_. He was gonna charm the fuck out of his Primus-given sparkmate.

He realized that he was maybe a little out of his league when he stepped out of the berthroom and right into the scene of Minimus pulling hot energon brittle out of the autoclave. Starscream's entire processor froze up, and instead of something disarmingly seductive, he just said blankly "you can bake?"

"I dabble," said Minimus. "It helps me relax after a long day defending the legal fabric of Cybertron."

Starscream had no idea how to make that sexy, so he just sat down and meekly accepted the perfectly cooked square of energon brittle. The flavors burst on his tongue; the sweetness of the bronze followed by tart iron. Starscream covered his mouth and tried to muffle a moan.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to do today?" asked Minimus. "I haven't yet called off from work, but I do have a significant bank of paid time off."

"Oh, we should do something romantic," said Starscream, his processor abruptly kicking back online. "We can go to the crystal gardens, or an amusement park, or—" he watched as Minimus' face set into a look of resignation "—or! We could go to your work! You could work!"

Minimus frowned. "You'd have to accompany me."

"That's fine," said Starscream. "I don't mind. In fact, I'd love to see what your workday looks like. You seem to enjoy it so much."

"Yes," said Minimus. "I do enjoy my job. It's often the best part of my day."

Primus, that sounded bleak. "I want to know everything about you." Starscream laid his hand over Minimus' on the table. "I want to see your office! Do you have an office? Does it have a couch?"

"Yes," said Minimus. "My office does have a couch."

Score! Starscream picked up a square of brittle. "Can we take this with us?"

Minimus got another one of those looks, but all he said was: “I’ll find a bag.”

\---

Minimus felt extremely awkward bringing Starscream into the office, even if Starscream had eaten all of the brittle he'd packed into his subspace while they were on the train, and could now be trusted not to leave crumbs in Minimus' office. It generally wasn't done to bring your loved—your _significant others_ to work with you. But if Minimus' only other option was taking the day off to traipse around the crystal gardens and try to hold a conversation, he'd suffer the awkwardness.

The first disruption came as Minimus had to stop at the reception desk to sign Starscream in as a guest.

"I'm going to need to enter Starscream into the system with a permanent guest pass," he told the deskbot. "He'll be visiting me frequently in the future."

The deskbot looked between Starscream and Minimus. "We don't give guest passes to—" he hesitated, clearly at a loss. Perhaps he thought Starscream was an assistant of some sort.

"Starscream is my sparkmate," said Minimus.

Starscream flicked on a bright smile. He was very expressive.

"Your—Um. Okay." The deskbot looked down at their console. "Right. I'll send you the paperwork immediately."

"We need to get your ID tag updated," said Minimus, as they waited for the elevator. When _he_ looked at Starscream, he received not only his designation and place of manufacture, but also, in almost sensory-overloading definition and embarrassing verbiage, his status as Minimus' sparkmate. Other mechs saw only the stripped ID tag Starscream had been issued with upon his booking in Iacon City Jail, without any occupation markers or honorifics. It no doubt struck them as odd.

"Sure," said Starscream. "I know a mech who does it cheap."

"I'd prefer a licensed technician," said Minimus. "Not whatever forger you paid to have yourself marked as a limb replacement specialist."

A scowl flickered over Starscream's face so quickly that Minimus wasn't sure if it had even happened until he pulled up the image frame in his memory. Oh. Perhaps it was impolite to bring up Starscream's past crimes. He had to remember that he wasn't cross-examining Starscream. He was supposed to be building a life with him.

No one had ever told Minimus how inconvenient that would be. Starscream was probably disappointed that Minimus wasn't overcome with joy.

"You may take on the house name of Ambus," offered Minimus. "If you'd like." Rewind hadn't taken the house name, but Minimus thought—yes, Starscream's optics lit up.

"The Honorable Starscream Ambus," he said, his rasping voice made richer by the pleased purr of his engine. “That sounds… fancy.”

"Honorable is reserved for government officials," said Minimus. "But yes. Starscream Ambus of Vos. We can add the function tag when you've been acquitted and found suitable employment."

They rode the elevator up to Minimus' office, and Minimus installed Starscream on the couch. It had come with the office, and Minimus disliked how he so easily sank into its plush cushions. Starscream, on the other hand, reclined onto it with a happy sigh, somehow managing to wedge his wings in against the back so he could rest his helm on the armrest.

Minimus opened his mouth to say something reproving, but then Enforcer Prowl walked in through the open door and Minimus had to attend to the case he'd been assigned in lieu of Starscream's.

"We've got more than enough evidence for fraud," explained Prowl in his monotone. "Ratbat was selling cheap memory sticks and telling people they were mechs. Which they weren't, but Orion Pax thinks you should charge him with for trafficking."

"He wasn't trafficking," said Minimus. “Technically speaking.”

"No," said Prowl, "but Orion Pax argues that the customers thought he was."

"So charge him with fraud and the _customers_ with trafficking," said Starscream, from where he was lying on the couch.

Prowl twisted to look at him. "I'm sorry," he said. "Your ID tag appears incomplete."

"Don't worry about it," said Starscream. "I'm definitely supposed to be here."

"This is my newly-discovered sparkmate," explained Minimus.

"Hmm," said Prowl. "Congratulations are in order. Starscream, you seem familiar. Have we met before?"

"I don't remember meeting you," said Starscream. "But maybe you're just not that memorable."

Prowl nodded. "I am not. In any case, we have not yet brought charges against any of the buyers."

"Oh, yeah, figures," said Starscream. "Bring in the small-time fraudster and let the rich and famous skate by unscathed, huh?"

Prowl's mouth compressed a micrometer. "It was not my choice. I can only provide evidence, and ultimately the City Prosecution Office must decide what charges to bring." This last was said with a piercing glance at Minimus, who in fact did not have complete prosecutorial discretion and would only write a recommendation for Tyrest to approve.

Starscream shrugged. "You can find half-a-dozen mechs on the street selling fake people. It's a victimless crime. I mean, I once got someone to give me a couple thousand for a laser pointer, and the fucker actually believed me when I said it was just sleeping."

Minimus waved a frantic hand at Starscream to _be quiet_ and the other hand at Prowl to regain his attention.

"Starscream makes a very good point," said Minimus. "Surely the underlying problem is the aberrant demand for captive mechs, disposable-class or otherwise, rather than those taking advantage of that demand to part deviants from their shanix and provide them with nothing in return."

Prowl clicked a few of his gears, non-committal. "The buyers aren’t Sentinel Prime's priority. But if you'd like to make an issue of it..."

"I would," said Minimus. "In fact, I'd like to propose a plea bargain with this Ratbat in exchange for naming _all_ of his customers."

Prowl dipped his doorwings. "Your proposal is much appreciated, Prosecutor Ambus. I’ll talk to Ratbat and see what we can do."

Prowl was no sooner out the door than Minimus had turned on Starscream.

"Please," he said, "do not just reveal your petty crimes to—"

"Yeah yeah yeah," said Starscream. "I was just sharing _insights_. You know, the justice system in Iacon is completely fucked up, present company excepted. Vos was way better."

"Vos tries its accused by forcing them to compete in an aerial stunt show," said Minimus. "And executes the losers."

"Exactly," said Starscream. "Anyway, I didn't think you'd want me to _lie_. Isn't that illegal?"

"Immoral," corrected Minimus. "Not _yet_ illegal, although the Senate is considering—" he stopped himself before he got distracted. "I simply request that you not parade your origins in front of my colleagues. It would be an inappropriate topic of conversation."

Starscream nodded and kicked his thrusters up on the arm of the sofa. "Gotcha. My lips are bolted."

"Thank you," said Minimus, and turned his attention to drafting the plea bargain proposal to Tyrest. He was only halfway through the preamble when his colleague Switchback burst in with his arms full of datapads. 

"Hey Mins," said Switchback, and Minimus stiffened at the unwanted diminutive of his name. "Can you deal with this for me? I have to go interview some witnesses and then I gotta go to lunch, I don’t really have time for this busywork."

"You need to learn to do your own paperwork," said Minimus. "You can't always rely on me to—"

"Thanks Mins, You're the best." Switchback dropped the datapads to Minimus' desk in a jumble and rushed out again. Minimus resigned himself to sorting them before they could even be filled. He fished his own datapad out of the mess and set it aside to be dealt with later.

"What an aft," said Starscream.

Minimus flicked on one of the datapads and input Switchback’s password. "Switchback is one of our most senior prosecutors."

"One of your most senior cogsuckers," said Starscream. 

"Language, please. His position deserves respect." But Minimus couldn't help adding, "even if the mech himself does not."

Starscream snickered. "I love you even more when you're mean. Can I help?"

"Hggk," said Minimus, and then had to restart his vocalizer. "That is. No. This paperwork may concern an ongoing prosecution and is undoubtedly confidential. Can I get you anything with which to entertain yourself meanwhile? This may take some time."

Starscream shook his helm and stretched to cover even more of the couch. "I'll just put on a flight simulator."

Minimus got started on the paperwork. There was a lot of it and it was complicated, made more complicated because Switchback never provided all of the information necessary to complete the work that _should_ have been his own. Minimus found himself bending over the desk, glaring at the datapads as if that would release the case numbers he needed.

"That looks uncomfortable," said Starscream. "You should come sit with me."

"I'm afraid I can't take a break," said Minimus.

"I didn't say a break." Starscream sat up and patted the now-open space next to him. "Bring the datapads."

Minimus thought about saying no, but Starscream seemed so hopeful. It wouldn't do to brush Starscream aside at every turn. He gathered up the datapads neatly, and transferred to the unfortunately plush couch. 

It wasn't as terrible as Minimus had expected. He didn't have to sink into the cushions—instead he leaned against Starscream's warm, solid side, securely tucked there with Starscream's arm loose around his shoulder. Starscream also didn't attempt to interfere with Minimus' work or make any inconsequential conversation. He simply sat, occasionally twitching his wings or making a low whooshing noise as he played with the flight simulator.

Minimus finished one datapad and then another, fixing all of Switchback's hasty mistakes and filling in the entries Switchback hadn't even started on. He found himself syncing his ventilations to match Starscream's rhythm, curling a little so he could rest his helm against Starscream's armor and listen to the gentle rev of Starscream's engine. He let his guard down, inch by inch.

Which was why he was especially startled when Switchback burst in without knocking.

"Mins, I forgot—" started Switchback, and then looked blankly at the empty desk for a moment before whirling and spotting them on the couch. "Minimus! Who is this?"

Minimus straightened up, knocking Starscream's arm away. "This is—"

"Why don't you have your function on your ID tag?" Switchback snapped at Starscream. "How did you get—Minimus! Did you bring this, this Starscream in?"

"Yes." Minimus was sitting on the edge of his seat now. "If you'd allow me to explain—"

"Minimus," said Switchback. "You _must_ know this is deeply inappropriate."

Starscream laughed, in an oddly musical tone. It sounded fake compared to his normal rasping voice. "Oh, yes. We were sitting on the couch like _maniacs_."

"It's a good thing I came in when I did!" Switchback glared. "Were you planning to do your, your business on the desk?"

"I was working at the desk before Starscream convinced me to move," said Minimus, utterly lost. "Switchback, I really don't understand why you're upset."

"Why I'm _upset_? You simply can't bring your, your—" Switchback visibly searched for a phrase he could utter in a government office. "Your _hired help_ into the office, especially during work hours!"

Starscream laughed again. "Mins, darling, are you going to tell him, or should I?"

"Permit me," said Minimus, frostily. "Switchback, this is my sparkmate."

Starscream waved.

"Oh," said Switchback. "Oh, dear."

"We only met yesterday," said Starscream. "We can't _bear_ to be parted. I'm sure you understand."

Switchback clearly did not. "Sparkmate? Mins, your sparkmate is a—"

"A Starscream, yes," agreed Minimus. "Did you need something?"

"I think maybe he forgot his paperwork," said Starscream. "It's so kind of Minimus to help you with it, isn't it? But I'm sure you could do it yourself." He gathered up the datapads from the couch and proffered them to Switchback. "Good luck!"

Switchback took the datapads and clutched them to his chest. "Minimus," he said in a hushed tone. "Can we talk in the hall?"

Minimus only went because he had an instinct that Starscream would prefer to cause a scene. But once they were in the hallway, Switchback stumbled and stuttered and almost said nothing at all.

"He looks like a, a," he said, and "he's got _casting seams_ ," and finally "Mins, he's a cold construct!"

"I'm perfectly aware," said Minimus. "Primus, as you know, doesn't discriminate."

"Doesn't he?" said Switchback, vaguely. "Listen, Mins, this isn't going to be any good for your career. Mechs are going to think differently of you. I mean, that seeker in there is a reflection of your _soul_. I'm telling you, as a friend, let 'em believe he's a buymech. Keep this under wraps. A little indiscretion is better than—"

"I'm sorry," said Minimus. "Did you say a buymech?"

"Yeah?" Switchback shrugged. "I mean, look at him. He obviously doesn't belong, what was I supposed to think?"

Minimus couldn't think of a single thing he could say, so he simply walked away. He didn't look back to see what Switchback did—he simply closed his door and pushed down all of the emotions he didn't have space to express.

Starscream was still sitting on the couch, optics dimmed as he played with his flight simulator.

"I hope you didn't hear that?" asked Minimus.

"Mmm, I can pretend I didn't if it makes you feel better." Starscream's optics lit. "But it doesn't matter. That's what the mech at the desk thought too, I figured that's why you wanted the tag fixed. Kind of shady to be bringing your funbot to work with you."

Words escaped Minimus yet again. First, it was ridiculous that he would ever show such a deep lapse of judgment. Second, there was no reason to assume that Starscream had any particular profession, let alone one which—while legal—was still deeply stigmatized. Third, _why_ hadn’t the deskbot said something outright instead of using opaque innuendo?

Minimus wasn’t sure whether to be more embarrassed for himself, his office, or for Cybertronian society at large. Had people really _thought_ —

"You're," he finally choked out, "you're merely a visitor."

"Not many constructs wandering around loose in a prosecutors' office, right?" Starscream shrugged. "So if you see one, you assume they must be there for a _reason_."

"Junior prosecutor Silverwere was constructed," said Minimus, feeling oddly helpless.

"Aw, that's nice," said Starscream. "I'm sure they appreciate your support."

Minimus tried to recall if he'd ever spoken to Silverwere. She was a quiet thing, very diligent. Not at all what he'd expected, when Tyrest had announced that they were being forced to hire a industrial mech due to government _quotas_.

He wondered if she felt out of place. If she was _made_ to feel that way.

"Hey," said Starscream, "you want to actually give them something to be scandalized by? We could have some real fun on this couch."

Minimus smiled at the joke as he returned to his desk and his work. Starscream was so adept at lightening the mood.

\---

This whole seduction nonsense wasn't really working out for Starscream, which was unusual. Normally he would just flicker his wings and jut out a hip, and all the big mechs in the room would already be trying to see if they could fit their hand around his entire thigh. So far he'd cuddled with Minimus on the couch—but only while Minimus was doing work. He'd tried to follow Minimus into his berthroom when they got back to the apartment, but Minimus had said he was too tired to talk any more. Tired! Talk!

Starscream's berth was lonely. He'd spent too many nights sleeping on top of Thundercracker and trying to shove Skywarp off his legs, that was the problem. The berth was perfectly comfortable. He'd recharged perfectly well.

Starscream pried himself out of the berth and crept over to the door, cracking it open so he could see Minimus in the kitchen. He was making something on the stovetop. Starscream couldn’t believe he just _cooked_ all the time. Hadn’t Minimus heard of takeout?

Starscream drummed his talons against the door. What did he have to do here? Maybe Minimus was just shy? Maybe he wanted Starscream to make the first move? Sometimes forged mechs liked that, let the big uncouth construct fulfil their carnal desires. Or maybe he got off on fucking _chastity_.

Starscream watched as Minimus set the table and then stared at it for a moment before taking a determined step toward Starscream's room. Starscream hurried back to the berth and arranged himself appropriately.

Minimus knocked. "Starscream?"

"Mhmm?" said Starscream.

Minimus pushed the door open enough that he could lean inside. If he noticed that it had already been cracked open, he didn't comment. "I've made breakfast."

Starscream stretched. He knew exactly what he looked like, thanks to the mirror on the ceiling. The arch of his back emphasized his generous turbines, and his wings strained to their full span. His hands twisted in the air, demonstrating his long thin fingers, the perfect size for hooking into seams. The drape of tarp over his hips suggested that maybe, just maybe, he slept with his interfacing panel open. To keep cool, you know.

Minimus' optics tracked gratifyingly from Starscream's face to his chest to his hips before guiltily snapping back up to his face.

"Is it morning already?" asked Starscream in a husky voice.

"Yes," said Minimus, and then jerked the door closed, unfortunately leaving him out in the hall instead of leaping into berth with Starscream. Starscream sighed and got out of berth again. When he opened the door, Minimus was already sitting at the breakfast table, in that one tall chair that put him at optic level when Starscream sat in the lower one.

Breakfast was energon pudding. It was, as expected, was delicious. Minimus wouldn't look Starscream in the optic.

"So," said Starscream, "I was thinking about, you know, maybe _consummating_ —"

"We've been invited to my brother's house for dinner," said Minimus, loudly. "His conjunx will be there, of course. Perhaps a few other close friends."

"A party?" Starscream wasn't sure how he felt about that. It'd be nice to socialize at a rich mech's soiree when he wasn't on the waitstaff and trying to figure out how to get the host's jewelry off him, but on the other hand Starscream was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get Minimus into berth at his brother's house.

Maybe if there were gardens. Rich mechs liked fucking in gardens, Starscream had _seen_ things.

"It's only a family gathering," corrected Minimus. "But it would be gratifying if we could put our best foot forward. Dominus and his sparkmate have been conjunxed for almost a century, and they can be—"

"Sickening?" suggested Starscream. "Just going off your expression here."

Minimus' frown instantly smoothed away. "Overinvolved in my supposed happiness, I would say. In any case, I plan to leave work early today to ensure that I am fully prepared to experience this dinner. Perhaps you could, ah, freshen up?"

"Wash and polish?" Starscream tried ducking his helm and looking up at Minimus. "You could shine up my wings, I'd love to feel your hands..."

"Perhaps a full repaint is in order," said Minimus, a little apologetically. Not that anything is _wrong_ with your colors, but—"

Starscream straightened up. "No, no, I get it. Last season's white." He drummed his talons, thinking about who owed him favors. "I could ask my buddy—"

"Please." Minimus pulled a credit chip out of his subspace and pushed it across the table. "Have it done professionally."

Starscream took the chip and scanned it on autopilot. The number of credits that came back was ridiculous. He barely resisted biting it to make sure it was real.

"Eventually I intend for you to be financially independent," said Minimus. "Once this burglary charge is handled, I'll be more than happy to help you find employment. There's always mechs looking for executive assistants, for good typists—You can type, can't you?"

Starscream had never typed a word in his life, that's what datapad-to-processor cables were for. "Uhuh," he said.

"Good." Minimus nodded sharply, as if he was gratified that Starscream had at least one marketable skill besides 'hot' and 'steals stuff.' "In the meantime, it's only seemly to give you an allowance for your own care, and for any household items you find lacking."

"An allowance?" asked Starscream. "Does that mean I get more next month?"

"The account refills weekly," said Minimus. "I don't intend to be stingy."

Starscream tried to imagine spending all of those credits in a week. He could buy a _space yacht_. A small one, anyway. He desperately wanted to pick Minimus up and kiss him until his processor overloaded with passion. He was actually trying to figure out if Minimus would slap him for trying when a more obvious problem occurred to him. "How am I supposed to go shopping while you're at work? I thought I was under your supervision. You didn't take the day off, did you?"

"Of course not," said Minimus. "Enforcer Prowl has agreed to escort you. Is that all right? You seemed friendly enough."

"I guess," allowed Starscream. "I mean, he won't be much help with choosing a new top coat. Do you think he knows that you're allowed to have _colors_?"

Minimus didn't seize on the opportunity to make fun of his sort-of-coworker. Instead he just looked down at his energon pudding and mumbled something about Starscream's colors being _very nice_ before picking up his spoon and determinedly beginning to eat. Starscream spun the credit chip over his fingers and thought about space yachts until the door chimed and Minimus got up to answer it.

Enforcer Prowl was just as stiff in the doorway of the apartment as he'd been in Minimus' office, like someone had replaced his spine with a shock baton. 

"I appreciate you taking the time out of your workday," said Minimus.

"It's no inconvenience," said Prowl. "This fits within the broad category of my duties."

"Oh Primus' sainted charge capacitor," Starscream didn't say. "This is the most boring conversation on Cybertron." Instead he stepped to Minimus' side and bent at the waist, turning Minimus' helm with one finger so that he could plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Goodbye, darling," he purred. "Love you."

"Hggk," said Minimus.

Starscream straightened up and took Prowl's arm. "My chauffeur. It's so kind of you to look after little old me." 

"As I was saying," said Prowl, "it fits within the broad category of—"

"Yes, yes," said Starscream. "See you, Mins! Have a wonderful day at work! Tell Switchback to go fuck himself if he tries to make you do his paperwork!" He swung Prowl out into the hall, closing the apartment door behind him. "There's the most _lovely_ little detailer in upper Iacon that I just can't wait to—" There was a wall of red and blue plating in between Starscream and the elevator. Starscream looked up into the mech's faceplate and then reset his optics, hoping desperately that he just hadn't cleared his cache.

No such luck. The mech really was standing there. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Starscream asked, perfectly reasonable.

Enforcer Orion Pax of Iacon stared down at him, looking almost as poleaxed as Minimus had after that kiss. Starscream didn't enjoy it nearly as much.

"My partner," said Prowl, the betrayer. "I reviewed your records, and I thought it would be prudent to call in reinforcements." 

\---

" _You're_ Minimus' sparkmate?" said Orion fucking Pax. "You're _Minimus'_ sparkmate?"

Starscream walked faster down the sidewalk, but of course the enforcers couldn't just let him escape. Orion Pax, the guy who hung around bars and _entrapped_ poor innocent seekers into trying to sell him boosters and then jack his subspace, just kept asking his _idiotic_ questions at increasing volume.

"Stop talking!" snapped Starscream. "Yes! Yes! I said yes the first time!"

"I just can't believe this," said Orion Pax, completely oblivious to all of the pedestrians staring at their little mismatched procession. " _You_ and _Minimus_. Prowl, do you know how often I've arrested this mech?"

"Forty-three times," said Prowl, with the optics of a mech who was filling in case reports while an autonomous program took care of menial tasks like 'walking' and 'conversation.'

" _Forty-three times_ ," said Orion Pax. "This has to be a scam. Starscream, is this a scam?"

"Oh no," said Starscream. "You've found me out. I have no choice but to tell you my evil plot."

There was a brief silence. Starscream looked over his shoulder and found Orion Pax looking at him expectantly.

"It's not a scam!" Starscream gestured wildly and nearly hit a particularly nosy pedestrian. "He's my sparkmate! I'm in love!"

"Okay, okay," said Orion Pax. "But does Minimus _know_?"

"My darling Minimus," said Starscream, venom dripping from every syllable, "was my prosecutor."

That shocked Orion Pax into silence for exactly twenty-five seconds. Not nearly long enough. Starscream glared at Prowl, whose fault this was. Prowl didn't even react.

"But seriously," said Orion Pax. "Does he _know_?"

\---

Work was dull and uncomfortable. Minimus found himself looking at everyone who worked at the prosecutor's office differently. Did all of them really harbor such unthinking prejudice to mechs of Starscream's construction? Cybertronian prosecutors were supposed to be unbiased and incorruptible, oiled machines of justice.

Switchback had always seemed an outlier. A small speck of rust in an otherwise irreproachable machine. Perhaps that was all that it was.

He'd looked into Silverwere's office and watched her work for a moment, toying with the idea of asking her if she had any insight. He'd abandoned the idea as soon as she'd noticed him. It would be cruel to burden Silverwere with his... discoveries. Especially if she'd been living with the knowledge all along.

"Just wanted to tell you to keep up the good work," he'd said. He'd felt guilty at how pleased and surprised Silverwere seemed to be. The praise was deserved. He’d simply never thought to give it before.

After he returned from work, Minimus allowed himself to relax for his requisite half hour. The solitude of his apartment wasn't quite as comforting as it once had been. Perhaps because he knew it was only a matter of time because it was full of Starscream's clicking talons and staticky laugh once more. After that half hour he felt antsy and echoing inside of his frame. He found himself unsure of what to do with his time.

But there were, of course, always things to do. He straightened the pillows on the couch and made Starscream's berth. He caught up on case briefings, and responded to his messages.

Finally, the hour of their departure growing nearer and Starscream not yet returned, Minimus took himself to the washracks and polished. He allowed himself the indulgence of a few moments admiring his frame in the mirror, after. He looked solid. Dependable. The soft look of good Praxian polish like the brand he imported was infinitely preferable to the flashy glitter that was the fashion in Iacon.

He considered sending Starscream a comm, and then sat silently on the couch instead.

Five minutes after Minimus would have liked to depart, the door opened and Starscream strode in, followed by his escort. Both Prowl and Orion Pax were heavily laden with packages, while Starscream was unencumbered and _breathtaking_. His colors hadn't changed except for all the ways in which they had, his matte red now a glistening wet scarlet, his white pearlescent and the blue of his hands glittering with a topcoat that caught the light in millions of diamond-dusted specks. His face looked fuller, somehow, and his optics larger. He'd even had the glass of his cockpit replaced with an orange mirror finish that reflected Minimus' wide optics right back at him.

Starscream caught Minimus' gaze and smiled, showing off newly-refinished and sharpened teeth, and did a small twirl with his arms and wings spread. "Good enough for a family gathering?"

Minimus couldn't imagine what his brother would say. He nodded, swallowing against an odd obstruction in his throat. "Did you have a successful excursion?"

Starscream waved a hand at his escort-cum-pack-mechanimals. "I just picked up some necessities. Polish, microfiber cloths, coolant, some snacks. You were very generous with my," another sharp smile darted over Starscream's face, "allowance."

"I only gave you what was appropriate for the sparkmate of a senior prosecutor," said Minimus. "Here, Orion, let me show you to the kitchen."

Orion followed Minimus down the hall, deposited his load on the counter, and then immediately shut the door that led to the living room. "Minimus," he said urgently, "the mech you're calling your sparkmate is a con, a liar, and a kleptomaniac. I had to stop him from shoplifting _six times_. And he had all of your money!"

"He didn't have all of my money," said Minimus. “I’ve given him his own account.”

"There's no way he's your sparkmate," said Orion. "You know how many times I've caught him in alleys, chatting up drunk mechs so he can chip off their kibble for scrap metal?"

"He _is_ my sparkmate, whatever his... past," said Minimus. "My HUD—"

"It's got to be a virus," said Orion. "He told me how you met—the very romantic _pickpocketing_ story? He planted a virus on you, and—"

The door opened, and Starscream stalked in, talons flexing and his grin fixed. "Thank you so much for your help, Orion Pax," he said through that grin. "And now it is time for you to leave. Goodbye. Goodbye!"

Minimus followed as Starscream physically pushed both Orion and Prowl out of the apartment. Orion twisted to look over his shoulder and made a 'comm me' gesture before Starscream shut the door in his face.

"There." Starscream brushed off his hands and then examined them carefully for scrapes. "When do we need to leave for dinner?"

"Fifteen minutes ago," said Minimus. "I'll call a transport."

"Or," Starscream looked shyly at Minimus through the corners of his optics. He'd had that glass replaced too, another mirror finish in crimson. "I actually had my altmode cockpit widened. If you'd like a ride."

Minimus had to suppress a wince of something that was uncomfortably not quite distaste. Allowing another mech inside of your altmode was an intimacy bordering on perversion for anyone except shuttles and medical transports, who of course couldn't help but fulfill the function for which they were meant. If he arrived at Dominus' home _inside_ of Starscream—No. No.

"I'm afraid that would be... inappropriate," said Minimus. "as much as I appreciate the offer."

Starscream's wings dipped, flattening against his back.

"Truly," said Minimus, feeling compelled to reassure him for some odd reason. "I would—" he couldn't quite find his way to saying what he ought to. "I would love to see the inside of your cockpit."

Starscream immediately brightened again. It was odd how easily a word for Minimus could shift Starscream's mood.

"And," said Starscream, slyly, "I'd love to show you what I've done to my array."

Minimus couldn't even imagine what an appropriate response to _that_ would be. Starscream seemed to find the look on his face amusing, at any rate.

\---

The transport deposited them at Dominus' front gate, leaving them to walk up the garden path, illuminated by little lanterns in the style of spark chambers. Minimus found them rather gruesome, but he supposed they were meant to be sweet.

After due consideration, he offered Starscream his hand.

Starscream seized it gleefully, twining their fingers together. "So, who's going to be here? Any more cops?"

"It's only a small dinner," said Minimus. "There may be a few of Dominus' friends."

Minimus held firmly onto that hope up until they saw the dense pack of guests spilling out onto the front lawn.

"Blast," said Minimus, unable to hold back the impulse to air his feelings. Starscream looked rightfully shocked at Minimus' vulgarity, and somehow even more shocked when Minimus apologized. Minimus didn't have time to dwell on that, as they squeezed through Dominus' usual crowd, plus about three or four hundred. 

"We just need to find my brother," said Minimus, over the din. "Then we can leave. Don't talk to anyone, don't make optic contact, don't—"

"Minimus Ambus!" caroled the honeyed voice of Rubicka. "It's been _so_ long. Are you still playing at being a laborer?"

Minimus ground his teeth, but forced himself to turn to face Rubicka and reply. She was a very important person, after all, even if she would never admit to being involved in politics or anything so prosaic. It wouldn't do to be rude. "I work in a skilled position, Rubicka. I'm very happy. Last month I was the lead prosecutor on forty cases, and served as a major assistant on a further twenty. You may have heard of—"

But no, Rubicka's optics had glazed over. "How interesting!" she chirped. "You know, you should be function-exempt. It's almost scandalous to see you working."

"I _am_ function-exempt," said Minimus.

"You know what I mean." Rubicka patted Minimus' helm, and he forced himself not to flinch away. "But I suppose you enjoy it, dear thing." Her optics flitted over Starscream, and she made a little moue of uncertainty. "Is this with you?"

"Yes," said Minimus, and decided that he wasn't in the appropriate mood to perform introductions. "Excuse me."

They didn't so much melt into the crowd so much as jam themselves into it and let it carry them away. 

"What the fuck was her problem?" muttered Starscream.

"Language," hissed Minimus, uncomfortably aware of his own hypocrisy. "Rubicka is an old friend of the Ambus family. She—"

"Minimus!" boomed Bastion, appearing from the crowd like a genial and treacherous mountain from the mist. "It's been _so_ long! I'd almost think you were avoiding me, haha."

"Haha," agreed Minimus, trying to shuffle his way around Bastion. "One might think."

Bastion shifted to block Minimus' path. "Are you still working that quaint little job?"

"Yes," said Minimus. "Last month, I was the lead prosecutor on—"

"How wonderful for you, to have something to keep you occupied." Bastion patted Minimus' helm. Minimus' did a poorer job of concealing his flinch this time, but Bastion was looking at Starscream. "I'm sorry, you seem a little lost. Are you looking for the kitchen?"

"No," said Starscream.

"He's with me," said Minimus, and finally managed to maneuver both himself and Starscream around Bastion and back into the crowd. 

"Another friend?" asked Starscream. "You need better ones."

"They're not _my_ friends," said Minimus. "Just friends of the family. Now, come on. If we can just find Dominus, we can pay our respects and then leave while he thinks we're still 'having a good time' or whatever he thought this ridiculous circus would accomplish."

Minimus thought he saw a flash of Dominus' plating near the buffet table, but he was still yards away when he felt his shoulder seized by thin, too-tight fingers.

"Minimus!" said Vega. "It's been absolutely _forever_!"

"Oh, Primus," muttered said Minimus.

Vega reached out to pat Minimus on the head. "Are you still working that funny little—"

Starscream caught Vega's wrist and bent it back. "Don't touch him."

"Excuse me?" Vega's optics widened either with surprise or pain, darting between Starscream and Minimus. "Ambus, tell your—"

"I'm his sparkmate, not his _pet_ ," snarled Starscream. "And he doesn't want you to touch him!"

" _Excuse me_?" repeated Vega showing a characteristic lack of audio comprehension.

"Just back the fuck off!" Starscream's wings swung out, forcing the crowd to shuffle away from what was rapidly becoming a scene. "And stop making fun of his job, it's very important!"

Minimus should intervene before this got out of hand. He should. He should. He—

Vega jittered back a step and Starscream let him go. "Minimus," Vega said, "I demand—"

"What's this I hear about sparkmates?" said Dominus, in that rich jovial voice he only put on for parties. "Don't tell me you're making the announcement without me."

"Dominus," said Vega, "this _person_ —"

"You must be Starscream!" Dominus leaned up to wrap Starscream's middle in a hug while Starscream stood there with his hands hovering over Dominus' shoulders, staring blankly at Minimus as if awaiting instructions. Minimus shrugged helplessly.

"I'm so glad to welcome you to the family," said Dominus. "Where's Rewind, he can't miss this. Rewind! _Darling_!"

Rewind melted out of the crowd. He never seemed to have as much trouble getting through the press of taller mechs as Minimus did.

"Is this Starscream?" asked Rewind. "Oh, you're gorgeous, aren't you? And very tall."

Starscream nodded tentatively, and then something seemed to click within his processor. His wings relaxed, a smile—somehow both friendly and sharp—graced his face plate, and he offered a hand to Rewind, palm up as if expecting to be given something. "And you must be Rewind," he said. "Minimus has told me so much about you."

"Has he?" Rewind sounded gratified, and he placed his hand in Starscream's. 

Starscream bent low to ghost a kiss over Rewind's knuckles. "It's been so valuable to have a beautiful example of sparkmates in Minimus' nearest and dearest family. You're… aspirational."

Rewind's recording light blinked on. "Could you say that again?"

"You're… aspirational," repeated Starscream, staring directly into the camera, with exactly the same awed intonation. "But I have to ask, why did you invite all these _horrible people_?"

Dominus detached himself from Starscream's waist, so as to better give Starscream a quizzical look. "I'm sorry?"

"Every person we've talked to so far," said Starscream, slowly, deliberately, "has been a fucking portgobbler. Every single person! It really can't be a coincidence. You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Dominus was slack-jawed. Rewind, half-stunned but still recording, nodded as if to encourage Starscream to continue.

"Starscream," said Minimus, "I was trying to tell you, these are friends of the House. They—"

"Mins _said_ that you were his brother," said Starscream, his voice rising syllable by syllable. "Doesn't that mean you're supposed to care about him? But instead of a nice quiet dinner where we could get to know each other, you invited a bunch of condescending pricks! Mins doesn't even like parties!"

"Well," said Dominus, "we simply had to invite the crowd, we had to let everyone know that—"

"I don't care what you _had_ to do, if this party is for Mins it should be what Mins wants!"

Dominus rocked back a step, mirroring Vega who was still watching with his hand over his mouth.

"Anyway." Starscream sent a cold glare around the room, assessing and judging every member of high society that Minimus had come of age to be tormented by. He clearly found them wanting. "I'm here," he continued. "I've been seen. I'm a seeker. I am _not_ part of the waitstaff. And if any of you have a problem with it, go fuck yourself!" Starscream wrapped Minimus' hand in his own. "And Mins' job is important! What the fuck have you fuckers done with your life? Stood around and made small talk and eaten canapes? I would love to just stand around and eat canapes! But Mins cares about things! He wants to be productive! And you cogsuckers should follow his fucking example!" Starscream's engine was roaring, and for a moment Minimus thought it might sputter, but no. It sounded controlled, like Starscream was preparing for a takeoff rather than losing his composure. 

Starscream looked down. "Mins, you want to get out of here?"

Minimus looked around at every single person in his social sphere, everyone whose opinion he and Dominus had cultivated for _decades_ , and realized that he couldn't give a toss about any of them. "Yes. Let's get the—" Minimus coughed and had to start again. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Starscream whooped with joy, swept Minimus up in his arms, and fired his thrusters. Glass rained around the shrieking crowd as they burst through the skylight. Minimus caught a glimpse of Dominus horrified face, and the recording light still blinking on Rewind’s helm. Vega yelped as a piece of glass pinged off his helm.

Minimus couldn't imagine a better exit.

\---

Starscream transformed around Minimus in the air, wrapping him up secure in his cockpit. Minimus found himself resting back against Starscream's seat, his hand coming up to touch Starscream's dashboard. There weren't any buttons or switches, as there would be in an alt-mode designed to carry paying passengers. Minimus didn't have any control at all.

It was odd, how comforting it felt to let himself be carried away from all his responsibilities. Minimus felt his spark tighten with guilt.

"We should go back." 

"What?" Starscream's voice filled the cockpit. "Go _back_?"

"Dominus organized the party for us," said Minimus. "It would be unforgivably rude to—"

"Mins, don't tell me you've just been putting up with mechs like that for your whole life because it would be _rude_ not to. We don't need them. We can go to a better party!"

"Starscream," said Minimus, and then stopped. He _had_ been putting up with those mechs and mechs like them for his entire life. He hadn't enjoyed any of the countless high-society functions he’d attended over the years. The only thing he'd enjoyed about the party they'd just left was watching mech's faces as Starscream swore at them.

He tried to recapture the courage he'd felt when he'd allowed himself to swear in turn.

"We can go back," muttered Starscream. "If you really _want_ to be there we can—"

"No," decided Minimus. "Starscream, you were, you were very—kind. I'd like to see your better party."

Starscream whooped and did a little corkscrew that had Minimus clutching at the base of his seat. "I know just the place!"

The place was loud, bright, dirty, and crowded. Minimus stared at the flashing neon lights and tried to adjust to the pulsing thump of the music as Starscream preened his wings after the landing. While they stood there, two mechs were thrown out onto the street with their headlights cracked. Another mech stumbled out, clearly intoxicated with more than engex. A few mechs went _in_ , for some unfathomable reason.

"How does my paint look?" asked Starscream. "Did any of it chip?"

"You look beautiful," said Minimus, absently. "Are we really going in there?"

"Uhh," Starscream snapped his optics away from Minimus and looked at the club. "Yeah? It's only the hottest place in Iacon. Well, the hottest place that serves Vosian cocktails. Most places won't, half the ingredients are on the restricted additives list."

There was a bouncer watching them, a single-opticked bruiser with a thick bull bar over her grill. She was glaring. Minimus wondered if it was obvious that he'd never even considered drinking anything except triple-filtered engex on social nights.

He couldn't imagine that he would fit in. But Starscream had made the effort for Minimus, so it was only fair that Minimus experience how the other half lived. Other seventy-five percent, to be more accurate. Minimus was perfectly aware of his place in the income percentiles.

"Please." Minimus offered Starscream his hand. "Guide me."

Starscream's smile was nearly as bright as his paint. He pulled Minimus past the bouncer without a word, quickly embedding them within the crowd. It was denser that it had seemed, much denser than even Dominus' overfull home, and Minimus could hardly hear himself think. Starscream's wings flared and he practically cut a path through the crowd, leaving a wake of drunk and swearing mechs who'd had a foot stepped on or an optic poked. In the dazzling mix of ultraviolet and neon light every highlight on Starscream's frame was picked out in shining gold, and the white of his wings glittered multicolored. Minimus couldn't help but stare at Starscream's aft. It was right at optic level, and it swayed hypnotically as Starscream—

Minimus tore his gaze away, then realized that every other mech in the club was staring after them, probably coveting the same pert aft. He felt a flare of unreasonable jealousy. It wasn't as if he had any claim on Starscream other than what his coding dictated. 

"Holy shit!" shrieked someone, just audible over the din. "Screamer?"

Starscream scowled and pulled Minimus a little closer to his frame. "That's not my name!"

"It _is_ you!" a purple and black seeker stumbled out of the crowd, sending a few smaller mechs bowling. "I thought you were in prison!" 

Minimus tried to ping the seeker for an ID, but what he got back was scrambled and unreadable. But he seemed familiar with Starscream—perhaps the same batch? Or perhaps it was true what they said, that seekers all knew each other.

"I'm out on bail," said Starscream. They'd reached the bar. He put his hand on the shoulder of a long, skinny mech sitting on a barstool. "Dirge, I need this seat."

"Screamer?" said Dirge of Vos, no occupation listed. "I thought you were in—"

Starscream physically shoved Dirge off the stool, and the other mech stumbled and disappeared in the rising mists of the fog machine.

"How'd you get bail?" asked the other mech. "I didn't think you had enough cash, and Megs said he wasn't gonna—"

"Shut up," said Starscream. "Mins, can I make you comfortable?" 

Minimus glanced at the barstool. It was too high for him to sit on without an awkward scramble, but if Starscream was asking—

Minimus nodded, with the same swooping feeling that he'd had within Starscream's cockpit, and allowed Starscream to pick him up by the waist and neatly deposit him on the stool.

"Oh, are you with this guy?" said the purple seeker. "Hey, babe, I'm—"

Starscream put his hand over the seeker's mouth. "Mins," he said, "this is Skywarp. Skywarp, this is my sparkmate, Minimus Ambus."

Skywarp's optics widened until their edges disappeared under his helm. "Shsdhsparkmate?" he gurgled.

"You don't need to sound so surprised," said Starscream.

"Does _Thundercracker_ —"

"No! Is he here?" 

Skywarp yanked on Starscream's wrist until his hand peeled away and Skywarp could shout over the crowd. "Thundercracker!"

"Oh, Primus," groaned Starscream. "Mins, can you order me a drink? I'll be right back, don't worry, I just have to—"

A slightly wider blue and black seeker scrambled up through the crowd. "Starscream! You're not in prison!"

"—Deal," finished Starscream. "Let me deal with this."

Minimus looked around the crowd of seekers, laboring frames, and other undesirables. He searched for that bravery again, and then used his official overrides to disengage his ID tag so it wouldn't respond to any pings. "Take your time."

\---

"Let me get this straight," said Skywarp. "You were _gonna_ go to prison for at least a thousand years."

"I wasn't going to prison," said Starscream.

"You so were," said Thundercracker.

"For a thousand years," repeated Skywarp. "And then you saw him, your one... your only... your cash cowinator."

Starscream bristled. "He's not a fucking—"

"He's loaded, though," said Thundercracker. "Did he pay for that fancy paintjob? Is he gonna pay to have your turbines redone next?"

Starscream took a deep breath. He didn't know why he was getting so worked up about this. It didn't matter what Thundercracker or Skywarp thought of Minimus, the important thing was that they were _sparkmates_ and they were in _love_. "Mins gave me an allowance," he said, evenly. "Because we're merged in the optics of Primus. Everything that's his is mine, and everything that's mine, could, I suppose, be his."

"What do you even have?" asked Skywarp. "A criminal record?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Starscream.

"Alright, a series of arrests and acquittals under suspicious circumstances." Skywarp tapped his bottom lip. "A bunch of used detailing brushes you left all over the bathroom. Uhh, probably a half packet of expired dross in that secret drawer you think we don't know about. Hey, wait, does this mean you're skipping out on the lease?"

"I'm not on the lease," said Starscream.

"Only because Thundercracker's the only one with papers to live out of barracks!" Skywarp jabbed a finger at Starscream's cockpit. "You gotta find someone to take your place or else you gotta keep paying rent."

"Fuck off!" Starscream tried to grab Skywarp's finger and snap it. “You can’t tell me to do shit.”

"Leave him alone, Skywarp," said Thundercracker. "It'll work out."

There was a moment of silence, filled by the pulsing of the music and the boring drunken conversations of the other mechs standing near the alcove Starscream had herded his so-called trine into. Starscream knew he couldn't actually feel comm traffic, but he could swear that the air between Skywarp and Thundercracker had become electric.

"Okay," said Skywarp, easily. "Have fun with your new sentient wallet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Starscream.

"Nothing," said Thundercracker. "Don't worry about it. We're happy for you."

"Yeah," said Skywarp. "This is probably the biggest con you've ever pulled, congrats."

"It's not a con," hissed Starscream. "Don't you get it? This is destiny! I touched his hand, a notification popped up on my HUD, and I knew. He's my sparkmate, and he has to love me no matter what. We belong together."

"Huh, I didn't know you could be romantic," said Skywarp. "You weren't like this when we trined."

"When we trined you were covered in fuel from Thundercracker purging," said Starscream. "That wasn't romantic. We have a practical bond, we’re not in love."

“Fuck you, _we’re not in love_.” Skywarp shoved Starscream’s shoulder. “Just because TC got sick—"

"I was drunk," grumbled Thundercracker. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"Well, I'm doing this on purpose," said Starscream. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life with Minimus. I deserve this."

Skywarp looked unimpressed. "You're going to milk him for everything he's worth, get bored, stir up stupid shit and drama, get kicked out, and come crawling back to us."

"Skywarp," said Thundercracker, "don't—"

"Oh no," said Starscream, "don't project on me. This isn't one of your disgusting hook-ups with Astrotrain or Blitzwing or whatever triple-changer you've met with a superiority complex and a big plug to suck. This is love. This is true fucking love."

"How long have you known each other, two days?" said Skywarp. "This is bail money."

"Skywarp," repeated Thundercracker, "just let him have his three-week honeymoon, like I said. You don't have to—"

"Three _weeks_?" said Starscream. "Is that what you think of me?"

"More like five days," muttered Skywarp.

"Fuck you!" Starscream shoved Skywarp out of the alcove, then did the same to Thundercracker. "Fuck you too!"

"Hey," said Thundercracker, "I'm on your side!"

"On my side for three weeks!" Starscream stalked past them, shoving them again with his wings, optics searching through the crowd for Minimus. Good, still sitting at the bar. He was looking back at Starscream too, the glowing red of his optics almost feeling warm on Starscream's spark.

"I'm going to go back to the mech Primus gave me," said Starscream, "to be appreciated."

He didn't look back at his 'trine' as he walked away.

"Hey, Screamer!" shouted Skywarp. "Try to get enough cash to pay rent before it all blows up, okay?"

Starscream still didn't look back, but he held up both middle fingers and trusted that his message would be received.

\---

Minimus had obtained both a drink for himself (a branded engex that he recognized and, importantly, came in tamper-proof bottles) and a drink for Starscream (a Vosian cocktail that the bartender had assured Minimus was enjoyed by a substantial majority of jets). He was now engaged at staring out into the crowd and hoping that Starscream came back soon. His processor was starting to ache from the combination of lights, music, and proximity warnings. Every time there was a dip in the music and he would hope for a reprieve, perhaps a light waltz, the boxy blue DJ on the little platform stage would throw his arms up and the crowd would shriek at him instead.

Minimus was beginning to think that bravery was overrated.

"Hey, good looking," slurred a little brown mech, creeping up to Minimus' stool. "What's a fancy piece like you doing in a dive like this?"

"Go away," said Minimus.

"Aw, come on, I'm just trying to make conversation."

"I'm here with someone." Minimus wasn't actually sure how to redirect unwanted attention at a bar. He'd never _had_ unwanted attention at a bar.

"Who are you with, huh?" The mech made a show of looking around. "No one, I bet. All on your lonesome." He actually reached out and put a hand on Minimus' knee. "I'm real good company."

"Rattrap!" Starscream's hoarse voice cracked like a whip over the music. "Get your paws off him!"

Rattrap raised both hands like he was being held at blaster point. "All right, all right."

Minimus brushed off his knee with a napkin from the bar. "You're Rattrap? I, ah, I own one of your paintings."

"Oh!" Rattrap brightened a little. "Always happy to meet a fan. If you want I can sign something for you. Any signature you like."

Starscream grabbed Rattrap by the shoulders, turned him, and pushed him away into the crowd. "Minimus," he purred, lowering his voice so that it was gravelly rather than ringing with feedback. "We should dance."

Minimus looked at the pulsing mass of frames on the dance floor with trepidation. "I bought you a drink."

Starscream picked up the Vosian cocktail and tossed back the full cube like a shot. "Now," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of one glittering hand, "we should dance."

Minimus had taken formal dance lessons for years before finally and gratefully settling into his dance-free career as a prosecutor. Club dancing, however, was nothing like the formal gavottes of his youth. It seemed to involve odd gyrations of the shoulders and hips, leaning forward and back so you could slide your plating against your partner's and sometimes against other random mechs in the crowd. Starscream's wings were constantly on the edge of taking someone's optics out, and Minimus found himself frequently jostled from behind. He should have hated it.

It was mesmerizing.

Starscream moved like he was made of liquid rather than metal. His mouth was half-open, lips soft and inviting, and his hands were constantly touching Minimus’ plating, his shoulder, his arms, his helm. Once Starscream turned so that they his back was to Minimus' front, his aft right under Minimus' optics, swaying hypnotically to the beat, close enough that—if Minimus was a complete deviant—he could even kiss—

The music shut off.

"Starscream!" a voice roared. "I know you're here!"

Starscream jittered back a step, banging into Minimus' chin. "Oh, fuck."

"What?" Minimus tried to see around Starscream's now rather inconvenient aft. "What's going on?

"We've gotta get out of here," said Starscream.

The club lit up, and there was a chorus of wails as bright white and yellow floodlights half-blinded the drunken patrons. Up on the DJ's platform, a massive gray laborer slammed his fist against a speaker, crumpling it. "Starscream!"

Starscream's wings tucked tight against his frame, and he grabbed Minimus' hand. "Go, go, go—"

Too late. The mech had spotted him and jumped down from the platform, the crowd parting to let him pass. Starscream's helm darted left, then right, then he pulled Minimus flush to his side and jerked his wings up again in an apparent show of bravado. 

"Yes, Megatron?" said Starscream, in an insouciant tone.

"Where's my money?" growled Megatron. He didn't even look at Minimus, so far below his field of vision.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The money you owe me from your ridiculous robbery," said Megatron. "The money you promised."

"Well, I don't have any money," said Starscream. "I was arrested. Don't you get the news feeds?"

"Oh, got arrested? And now you're here, living it up? A likely story." Megatron reached out one massive fist and caught Starscream by the chin. "If you don't have money, then maybe I'll take it of you in scrap plating."

Minimus was so close that he felt Starscream stiffen, felt the hum of Starscream's bail-locked weapons systems struggling and failing to come online.

"Megatron," said Starscream, his voice suddenly sweet and conciliatory, "I might not have money now, but I could—" his voice cut off as Megatron actually slipped a thumb past his lips to stop his tongue.

"I don't deal in 'eventually,'" said Megatron, softly. "Either give me credits, or we'll find a way for you to work off your debt. If you're wise, you'll think of something more pleasant than being turned into spare parts."

The thumb slipped a little deeper, past the first knuckle. Starscream's weapons systems stuttered and failed again.

"Excuse me," said Minimus, "I'm going to have to ask you to step away." 

Megatron finally deigned to look down. "You're excused. Who exactly are you supposed to be?"

Minimus reengaged his ID tag and broadcasted it to the club at large. He felt something fizzing in his chest, bubbling up and demanding to be let out. "Get your hands off my sparkmate."

Megatron laughed and looked away, back at where his hand was still forcing itself on Starscream's mouth. "Found a new mark, Starscream? Or is this your probation officer?"

"Mins," mumbled Starscream, "don't worry, I'm handling this."

"You shouldn't have to handle it," said Minimus. "Now, Megatron, I don't like to repeat myself." 

"And I don't have time for this," said Megatron. "This matter is between Starscream and I, and once we reach a mutually beneficial agreement I'll consider returning him to you. In five or six hours, perhaps."

Minimus was rapidly losing his temper, which was why he did something so uncouth as shove Megatron away. Megatron stumbled back a step, surprised, and gratifyingly lost his grip on Starscream.

"Oh, a fool as well as a tool of the state." Megatron put up his fists. "Very well. Starscream, this won't make it any better for you."

"Hey, hey, why don't we all calm down?" Starscream edged his way between Minimus and Megatron. "I've—I've got _some_ money, maybe we can—"

"We'll talk after your pet is in pieces," said Megatron, and charged.

It was as if they were moving in slow motion. Minimus ducked under Starscream's outstretched arm, caught Megatron by one knee, and threw him across the room, into and through the opposite wall.

There was a brief moment of silence, followed by absolutely everyone yelling at once.

"Holy shit," said Starscream.

"Are you all right?" said Minimus. "I'm sorry I—"

"Holy shit!" said Starscream. "You fucking, you _threw_ Megatron, you—"

"He seemed to be bothering you," said Minimus.

" _Bothering_?" Starscream shook his entire frame, plating clattering, then grabbed Minimus' hand again. "We need to get out of here."

Minimus winced as he heard a roar from outside, overpowering the din from within. "That might be prudent."

Starscream pulled them through the crowd, and Minimus allowed himself to be hurried through a back entrance and guided down a twisting path of alleyways. The noises of the club grew fainter and fainter until they could no longer hear the enraged shouting. Starscream stumbled to a stop next to an overfilled dumpster, his engine racing and then throttling abruptly. "You're—you're really strong."

"Uh, yes," said Minimus.

"Really strong." Starscream sank to his knees in the dirty alleyway.

"Are you all right?" said Minimus.

"You fucking threw Megatron through a fucking wall."

"Are you having some kind of processor glitch?" said Minimus. "Do you need assistance?"

Starscream reeled Minimus in by his hips and started pawing at his interfacing panel for some reason. "Oh, Primus. I thought he was going to smash you like a tin can, but you, you have to let me suck you off."

"What? No!"

Starscream jerked back like he'd been struck in the face. "No?"

"We're not having sex in this alley," said Minimus. "Especially not when you're in the midst of an emotional crisis."

"But you threw Megatron through a wall!"

"I don't understand how these things are related," said Minimus. "But we're going home."

Starscream's mouth twisted into a pout. "Are we having sex there?" 

"No." Minimus shuddered, thinking of Megatron's thumb pushing into Starscream's mouth. Was this how Starscream expected powerful mechs to act? Was his body so _foreign_ to him, that it became just another commodity to be given and taken away? "No, you don't have to, to _reward_ me."

"But you're my sparkmate," said Starscream. "This is what we're supposed to do."

There was a roaring in Minimus' audials. "You're in no state to fly," he said, firmly. "I'm calling a transport, and we're going home."

\---

Starscream let himself be pulled up from his knees. He let himself be guided into a transport. He let himself hold Minimus' hand, rubbing his thumb over Minimus' knuckles as he thought about what Minimus might let him do when they got home.

Yeah, Minimus had said no in the alleyway, but he'd also been staring at Starscream's aft all night. Starscream wasn't dumb, no matter what people thought when they looked at him. Minimus didn't want him to feel _obligated_. The best way to do that was to be as enthusiastic as possible, to show Minimus how much he wanted to feel his thick pulsing love.

Starscream did his best. When they were back in Minimus' apartment he crowded Minimus against a wall, like he just couldn't help himself. He let his fans spin up until all he could hear was roaring. He leant down and tried to steal a kiss.

Minimus turned his helm away.

No, no, no, that wasn't how it was supposed to go. "Mins?"

"We shouldn't," said Minimus.

"I want to," said Starscream, and then plaintively, hating his own voice but unable to hold it in, "you're my sparkmate."

"We've known each other for three days," said Minimus. "And for one of those I was still your prosecuting attorney."

Something was happening to Starscream's chest. He resisted the urge to claw at his chassis to try and fix the ache.

"There's no reason why a sparkmate relationship has to be sexual." Minimus pushed Starscream back, gently but inexorably. "Or even romantic. I assumed that we would cohabitate—it's simply expected. But there's no reason why we would ever have to—"

"I'm in love with you!" said Starscream.

"Hggk," said Minimus, and the stunned expression on his face almost gave Starscream hope. But then it settled into something closed off and tired. "We've known each other for three days. I've heard that seekers form attachments easily. That you were, perhaps, programmed to do so? I’m not an expert in coding. But you must recognize that these attachments are not the same as the serious emotional commitment of—"

"I know what love is!" snapped Starscream.

Minimus didn't say anything else. He just looked up at Starscream, his little red optics burning right through him.

"I do!" Starscream's chest still hurt. In lieu of clawing out his spark he dug his talons into the wall instead, punching through the sheet rock to blunt his talons against the metal wall stud. "This was supposed to be, we were supposed to be—"

"Starscream," said Minimus, but Starscream was already whirling away.

"I'm going to my room."

His room. The guest room. The guest berth. Minimus had never wanted him here at all. He shut the door and leaned it against it for a moment, fans spinning up and down haphazardly. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be anywhere.

Starscream looked up into the mirrored ceiling. There he was, a painted-up construct, all alone in his sparkmate’s home. Unwanted. Undesired. Undesirable.

Had he really thought this would work? Had he really thought that he, that he deserved—

His optics lit on the window. It wasn't big enough. Yet.

\---

Minimus spent a solid fifteen minutes leaning against the wall where Starscream had left him, considering just how thoroughly he'd botched that conversation. Then he went and knocked on Starscream's door a few times. Starscream didn't answer. Minimus didn't blame him.

It was late. He went to berth and recharged poorly, his defragging processor repeatedly presenting unwanted images of the night for his consideration. Starscream dancing. Starscream smiling. Starscream, standing stiff and brave as he looked Megatron in the face. Starscream sinking to his knees.

It must be horrible, to enjoy seeing someone on their knees. Minimus had heard whispers before, high society mechs talking in low tones about what you could get a construct to do if you offered it a few credits. That Starscream had thought _Minimus_ might desire that from him—

No, worse. That Minimus _did_.

He needed to fix this. He needed to show Starscream that he had a home here, without having to force himself into any degrading positions or anything else in the name of 'love.'

In the morning Minimus made the most elaborate breakfast he knew, a jellied energon roll filled with rust icing and mercury cream. He carefully placed it on the exact center of the table. He laid out the best cutlery, and poured coolant into the crystal tumblers he'd bought as an indulgence to himself. He enjoyed, as always, the soft play of light on their perfectly symmetrical facets. Then he knocked on Starscream's door again.

No answer.

Minimus left the energon roll on the table and sat on the couch, flicking aimlessly through the mindless programming. Every other show seemed to be about romance. Did mechanisms never tire of it? Romantic comedies, romantic dramas, reality shows interviewing couples or setting couples up or helping mechs find their ordained sparkmates.

"Love," said the host of one particularly execrable show, "is about trust. And trust is about vulnerability. Tonight, we will make Hoist feel more vulnerable than he ever has before, with the help of a sharkticon tank and an _extremely_ fragile rope. Will Grapple save the day, or will he—"

Minimus changed the channel. Again. Again.

After two hours, Starscream still hadn't emerged. 

Minimus slowly worked through the logic of convincing himself that it would be appropriate to open Starscream's door. It didn't have a lock. The only thing keeping the door closed was Minimus' respect for Starscream's privacy. What if Starscream's fuel tank was running low? What if it was so low that he could no longer stand to answer the door? Minimus would have to check on him, it was simply medically necessary. 

Minimus gathered up his flimsy shreds of excuses and went to the door. He had to push hard against it, because Starscream seemed to have jammed his berth up against the doorknob. That was the first red flag.

The second red flag was the shards of glass scattered across the floor, and the blank ceiling where a mirror had once hung. The third was that the room was empty. The fourth was that there was a seeker-sized hole in the wall where the window had been.

\---

Prowl didn't particularly enjoy front desk duty. He'd been constructed an enforcer, so technically he was supposed to live for every part of the job. He'd also adjusted to this expectation better than most of his batchmates, and so he did find a quiet satisfaction in filing arrest paperwork, taking witness statements, and refilling the energon dispenser in the precinct breakroom. 

But front desk duty tended to involve fielding a lot of comms from busybodies, to use the technical term. Prowl didn't have the patience for it.

"Hello," said Prowl, into the official comm. "Iacon ninth precinct."

"Yes," said a prim little voice on the other side of the comm. "I need to report the escape of an accused criminal awaiting trial while on bond."

Prowl cycled the audio file a couple of times just to be sure he'd heard it correctly.

"My designation is—"

"Minimus Ambus," said Prowl. "What did you do?"

"How did you—Is this Enforcer Prowl?"

"Yes," said Prowl. "What did you do?"

Orion Pax wandered over with a handful of rust sticks. 'What's going on?' he mouthed at Prowl.

Prowl held up a finger.

"I didn't do—" said Minimus indignantly, then stopped himself, took a deep breath, and returned to his normal measured tones. "I'm trying to report an escaped—"

"Yes," said Prowl. "Starscream has left your apartment."

Orion Pax snapped a rust stick. "Starscream left the apartment?"

"He's skipped _bail_ ," said Minimus.

"He has left your apartment," said Prowl, gesturing for Orion Pax to shush. "Under what circumstances?"

"I'm trying to report a—"

"You have reported it," said Prowl. "Did you have fight?"

"They had a fight?" demanded Orion Pax. Prowl had to actually shove him back from the desk before he got any rust crumbs on Prowl's work station.

Minimus hesitated for a long time. Prowl didn't bother entering that data into his calculations. He was already at ninety percent certainty and climbing.

"Your answer is no longer required," said Prowl. "Orion Pax and I will locate Starscream. Do not leave your apartment."

"Are you detaining me?" snapped Minimus. "over the _comm_?"

"Obviously not," said Prowl. "We are merely being efficient. Stay in your apartment in case Starscream comes back. Await further instructions."

He hung up the comm over Minimus' splutter of objection.

"Holy shit," said Orion Pax, through a mouthful of candy. "What are we going to do?"

"We are going to retrieve Starscream." Prowl held out a hand. "Give me one of those."

\---

"Enforcer Prowl?" said Minimus. "Prowl? Prowl."

There was no response. Finally, with great dignity and disgust for Enforcer Prowl's lack of professionalism, Minimus hung up the comm. He then proceeded to fume for five minutes, then spent a further five minutes trying to come up with reasons to leave the apartment. But he didn't have work today, and there was hardly anything is his life except work. No hobbies. No friends. Only his job, his tedious social acquaintances, and his sparkmate.

The sparkmate who'd left him.

In the absence of anything else to do, he called Dominus.

"Hnng?" said Dominus. "Sngshd."

"Dominus," said Minimus, through gritted teeth. "It's almost midday."

"Shhgnk?"

"Dominus," snapped Minimus, "I need your help!"

"I'm sorry, Mins," said Rewind, his voice a little tinny through the borrowed comm. "I'm afraid I wore your brother out. Can I help instead?"

Minimus ruthlessly suppressed any speculation on what Rewind meant by that comment. "This is a personal matter. Perhaps Dominus can call me back when he's achieved consciousness."

"Oh, don't be like that," said Rewind. "You know you can tell me anything. We're basically brothers."

Perhaps it was more out of spite than any genuine desire to share, but Minimus said: "Starscream's left me. Barely three days and he's left me. Probably back to the seekers he was with last night, they seemed friendly enough when they weren't cursing at each other."

Rewind hummed. "What seekers?"

"Thundercracker and Skywarp," said Minimus. "If those are their real designations. They had their ID tags scrambled. Undoubtedly they're part of Starscream's criminal empire."

"Mhm.” Rewind could make even the smallest sound seem skeptical. “Why did Starscream leave?"

"I don't know." Minimus stared at the energon roll slowly congealing on the table. And then, out of spite, it must be out of spite, he said, "he tried to have sex with me in an alley yesterday."

"Ooh," said Rewind, "wait, _tried_?"

"It wasn't appropriate," said Minimus. "And when I tried to explain what we'd agreed to, his new position in society—"

"Oh, I can imagine," said Rewind. "You do love explaining positions."

"Whassit?" grumbled Dominus. "Fzzt."

"Hush, darling," said Rewind. "Mins and I are having a conversation."

"Please don't call me that," said Minimus. "And I'd thank you not to take that tone with me."

"Oh, I'll take whatever tone I like, _Minimus_ ," said Rewind. "Now, I won't say it's your fault, because your brother was exactly the same when I got his hands on him. But you have to be one of the most reflexively condescending mechs I've ever met. Starscream's _place_? In _society_? Why couldn't you just say 'hey babe, I'm really into you but I'm not ready for public sex yet'?"

"It has nothing to do with sex," said Minimus, stiffly. "It's important for him to realize what being an Ambus sparkmate entails."

"An Ambus fucking sparkmate? If you didn't want to fuck in a dirty alley you should have just said so! You don't need to rely on society to keep your knees clean."

"That wasn't," began Minimus, but Rewind ran over him, more like a bulldozer than a memory stick.

"You remember when Dominus introduced me? You said you supposed I must be grateful to have found him. Me! Grateful! I mean I am, obviously, but Dominus should be fucking ecstatic!"

"Loud," groaned Dominus. "Why."

"I thought we were talking about Starscream," said Minimus. "I welcomed you into this family."

"Please, you can't stand me," said Rewind. "Shh, Dominus, I'll keep it down. I don't blame you, Mins, there's not many people in your life worth liking. I guess you just got used to it."

Minimus didn't know what to say to that. He—yes. He'd gotten used to tolerating people. He didn't know it was to _like_ , let alone—

"I'm sorry that I didn't try to make it better," said Rewind. "I don't think I even realized how bad it was, not until Starscream stood up for you at the party."

"Ah." Minimus cleared his throat. "Yes, that was—embarrassing."

"Good things can be embarrassing," said Rewind. "Listen, you just—you have to stop caring about what is _correct_ and start thinking about what feels good. You have to let yourself be alive. If you worry about _society_ and _positions_ you'll never get anywhere."

"What's going _on_?" demanded Dominus, rapidly gaining in coherency. "Why are you yelling into my ear?"

"Just giving some advice," said Rewind. "I'm serious, Mins. You gotta start by just thinking about yourself and Starscream. Society can go fuck itself. It never did anything for any of us, okay? We don't need to do anything for it."

\---

Starscream had been outfitted with a tracker as part of his parole agreement, so Prowl tried that first. It registered at the boutique detailer's where Starscream had gone yesterday.

"He went back?" said Orion Pax.

Prowl looked at him for the four point seven seconds it took Orion Pax to realize what had actually happened.

Orion Pax still tried to deny it. "There's no way he took off his tracker. I was watching him the whole time, and the medics bolt those to the inside of your chassis!"

Prowl moved on.

The home address listed on Starscream's record led them to an abandoned warehouse. Orion Pax milled around aimlessly, kicking around discarded booster shells, while Prowl considered their next steps.

"Known associates," said Prowl. "Does Starscream have known associates?"

"I think there's a couple of other seekers he hangs around with," said Orion Pax. "Skycrash? No, that's not right."

"Typically seekers aren't named after airspace accidents," said Prowl.

"Thundercrash," said Orion Pax, more confidently. 

Fortunately that was close enough to bring up a hit in the system. _Thundercracker_ had submitted several manuscripts to local simvid production houses, including his mailing address. The mailing address led to a dingy rowhouse, its three stories chopped up into a dozen apartments. Thundercracker's was one of those on the top floor.

Prowl allowed himself a brief burst of satisfaction. This was, after all, what he was made for.

Orion Pax took lead on knocking. He was better at public-facing interactions, or at least so Prowl was told.

A purple and black seeker with a scrambled ID tag peered through a crack in the door. "Warrant?" he spat out.

"We're just checking up on someone," said Orion Pax, placatingly. "Have you seen Starscream of Vos lately?"

Even through the door, Prowl could see the way the seeker's face froze. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said slowly.

"Starscream?" repeated Orion Pax. "Red? Blue? White? Wings? Makes this smirking face all the time?"

"Uhhh," said the seeker.

There was a smash somewhere in the apartment, and then the angry rise of a shriek undercut by a low rumbling murmur.

"Is there a problem?" asked Orion. "Do you need assistance?"

"No!" squeaked the seeker. "Don't come in!"

"Prowl, I think something's going on in there," said Orion Pax. "We better go in and _help_. Hold on, I’ll break the door down."

Prowl reconsidered whether Orion Pax should be the public-facing officer in this particular instance. The seeker looked ready to escalate, his integrated weaponry humming as it onlined.

"What's your name?" asked Prowl, using one door to nudge Orion Pax to the side.

"I don't have to tell you shit," said the seeker.

"True," said Prowl. "I'm Enforcer Prowl, originally of Petrex. This is Enforcer Orion Pax of Iacon. We're checking on Starscream on behalf of Minimus Ambus, who is very worried about his sparkmate. No criminal charges are being considered."

"Oh." The seeker deflated a little. "Starscream said—" One hand flew to his mouth, and the crack in the door shrunk a micron.

"If you would like us to leave, we can do so," said Prowl, attempting to sound comforting despite his monotone. "But if you would allow us to confirm that Starscream is well..."

The seeker looked away, into the apartment. There was another crash and another shriek. "Okay," he said, and opened the door. "Wait, uh, don't look at anything. You don't have my permission to look at anything, so you can't, right?"

"What does he mean?" muttered Orion Pax.

"Ignore the dross," murmured Prowl, and stepped over the threshold.

It wasn't just dross. There was contraband all over the apartment, which Orion Pax gawked at and Prowl studiously ignored. He did not need to know about illegal blasters, forged license plates, or whatever clicking thing was in the box with the airholes. His target was a curtain that cordoned off a corner of the apartment, from behind which he could still hear smashing.

"Stop," said the deeper voice. "Babe, stop, working yourself up like this isn't gonna help."

"You don't know what will help!" said the unmistakable voice of Starscream. "You don't know anything about me!"

"You're my trinemate, of course I—"

"No!" shrieked Starscream. "You didn't believe I could love someone! You didn't think I was capable of it!"

"I didn't say—"

"And you were right!" wailed Starscream, and something else smashed. “We didn’t last three weeks, we didn’t last five days, we, we—why doesn’t he _love_ me? He’s supposed to! That’s the whole _point_!”

Prowl pushed aside the curtain. "Starscream?"

There was a nest of pillows, bean bags, and tarps on the floor, along with a mess of datapads and empty energon cubes. And yes, there was Starscream, and a blue and black seeker fitting the description of Thundercracker. As Prowl watched, Starscream reached into a bin at his side and pulled out a cheap bust of Primus, weighing it in his hands. 

"Hey, who are you?" said Thundercracker.

"They're cops," said Skywarp, leaning much too close into Prowl's personal space in order to yell over Prowl's shoulder. "They promised not to arrest anyone so I let them in."

"We didn't _promise_ ," began Orion Pax, but Starscream cut him off by throwing the bust of Primus against the wall, where it exploded in a hail of pottery shards.

"Uhh," said Orion Pax. Starscream picked up another bust, his optics flicking over Prowl and Orion Pax as if he was deciding which of them would be the better target.

"Starscream," said Prowl, "Minimus Ambus sent us to check on you."

"Minimus? Minimus?" Starscream's voice began to crackle with static, and two of his talons crunched through Primus' broad chin. "Minimus doesn't care about me. You're just here because I skipped bail!"

Prowl shook his head. "There's a ninety-eight percent probability that Minimus Ambus is in love with you, and is simply too emotionally compromised to recognize it."

The bust shattered in Starscream's hands. "He loves me?"

"Ninety-eight percent probability," said Prowl. "For reference, this is about as certain as I ever am about anything."

Starscream looked at Prowl blankly, his hands full of broken statuary. The silence went on long enough that Prowl thought perhaps Starscream's hard drive had frozen, and he set a timer for when he would offer medical assistance. About five seconds before that timer expired, Starscream got up and launched himself at Prowl.

"Woah, woah, woah!" yelped Orion Pax. "Step away from Enforcer Prowl! Hey! Put up your hands!"

Starscream was undeterred. Prowl found himself with his arms full of seeker and Starscream's face pressed against his neck, his vocalizer hiccupping static as he sobbed.

"Oh, wow," said Thundercracker. "Starscream never cries, he just throws things. He went after my datapads first, that's why I got these off-cuts out of the closet in the first place."

Prowl patted Starscream between the wings. "Orion Pax, I have this under control. You may lower your weapon. Starscream, would you like us to call Minimus Ambus for you?"

Starscream didn't say anything, but his head jerked against Prowl's plating in a vaguely affirmative way.

"All right," said Prowl. "Orion Pax, could you—Are you taking image captures?"

"No!" said Orion Pax, entirely unconvincingly. "I mean—Just for, uh, for evidence."

"Call Minimus Ambus," said Prowl, firmly. "Starscream and I are going to sit down."

\---

Orion Pax had said to remain calm. He'd said that everyone was fine. He'd said all that, and Minimus could hear Starscream _crying_ in the background.

Minimus was overheating by the time he got to the apartment building. In the middle of rush hour, he'd been unable to find a transport that would pick him up in anything less than thirty minutes. In the end he'd caught a public tram and then run from the station to the address Orion had given him, covering the six long blocks in quick desperate strides. 

He got into the apartment easily. There was no door mech, and the lock that should've held the outer door closed was hanging, broken. Who had broken it? Was Starscream injured?

Minimus wasted a precious minute waiting for the elevator before realizing that that, too, was nonfunctional. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he was dumping searing air from every vent.

Minimus looked around wildly, trying to identify the correct apartment, and then realized Orion was standing at one door.

"Hey, Minimus," said Orion. "You look like you need to, uh, maybe calm down? Didn't you listen to me on the comm?"

Minimus scrambled to stand in front of Orion. "Where's Starscream?"

"No, I'm serious," said Orion. "Chill out."

Minimus grit his teeth. "Where's Starscream?"

"He's inside having a meltdown," said Orion deliberately, "and if you go in there like that, you'll make it worse."

Minimus almost snarled in reply, but he caught it, forced it down, transfigured himself back into the prim and proper mech he was supposed to be. Slowly, his vents shuttered back to their normal dilation.

"Wow," said Orion. "I know I asked for it, but it's still creepy."

Minimus didn't have _time_ for this. "Where's Starscream?"

Orion opened the door.

The seekers from the club, Thundercracker and Skywarp, were huddled at a table with a broken leg, each clutching a steaming (and cracked) mug of energon. They glared at Minimus, and he resisted the urge to glare back. Of course this was where Starscream had fled. To this dingy little studio, with holes in the walls and refuse all over the—No. Minimus stopped himself. That wasn't productive, nor was it deserved. The apartment wasn't _clean_ , but perhaps they didn't care for cleanliness. It wasn't his place.

Reflexively condescending. How dare Rewind be right.

There was a curtain hiding a corner of the room. Minimus could hear muffled little noises coming through it.

"Calm," reminded Orion.

Minimus tried to slow the whirling of his spark and found that he could not. This would have to do. With a trembling hand, he held back an edge of the curtain and stepped through.

Enforcer Prowl was sitting on a frayed beanbag chair, some of the stuffing spilling out of one side as he shifted his weight. Plastered over him, recognizable only by his shaking white wings, was Starscream.

He wasn't saying anything, just making soft hiccupping vents with his face buried in Prowl's neck. His paint was still glitter-bright from the day before. Minimus noticed, with unreasoning jealousy, that his aft was cushioned by Prowl's broad thigh.

Prowl met Minimus' optics over Starscream's shoulder. His face remained expressionless, but Minimus thought he could read reproach in those flat optics.

Minimus cleared his vocalizer, then had to do it again, and again. 

"Stop coughing, Skywarp," grumbled Starscream. "I'm having a moment."

"Starscream?" said Minimus.

Starscream yelped and half-flung himself off Prowl, landing in a jumble of wings and knees. There were long streaks of red and black running down his face and neck. Minimus hadn't even realized he'd been wearing temp paint. 

"You came," mumbled Starscream. "Prowl said, but I didn't think—" But then his optics went steely and his voice gained strength. "No. You're just here to collect the escapee, right? I guess you'll send me back to prison where I belong now."

"Jail, not prison," corrected Minimus. "You'd only go to prison after a court conviction, and—"

Starscream's wings flattened against his back, and Minimus caught himself. "No. No, Starscream, I'm here to beg your forgiveness."

Starscream gaped. Out of the corner of Minimus' optic he could see Orion trying to pull Prowl out of the beanbag chair, but all his attention was trained on Starscream's paint-streaked face.

"This whole time," said Minimus, "I've been following a script. Doing what I thought was expected of a sparkmate of my station. I only thought of giving you credits, telling you what kind of job would be suitable, putting you in the spare room. I never bothered to ask what you wanted from me."

"What I want?" said Starscream, blankly.

"Yes," said Minimus. "We clearly have different expectations of what a sparkmate should be. I would like to—to try to satisfy your desires."

"My desires?" Starscream seemed stunned by the thought. Orion Pax finally managed to yank Prowl out of the beanbag, then overbalanced with Prowl crashing on top of him. Minimus tried to ignore that there were still two enforcers in the room. This was too important to wait.

"If sexual intimacy is that important to you," he said firmly, "I'm more than willing to—"

Starscream's wings jerked upright. "No! I mean, no, I mean—The credits are nice. Your apartment is nice. I just, I thought we'd be in love. That's all I wanted."

Minimus bit his lip. "I'm afraid," he admitted, humbly, haltingly, "that you'll have to teach me how."

For some reason that was the wrong thing to say. Starscream's vents started hiccupping again, and he buried his face in his hands, smearing those streaks further. The curtain swished as Prowl and Orion Pax finally made their escape, leaving Minimus to hover with his hands not quite on Starscream's shoulders, not sure if touch would be a comfort or too much to bear.

"Starscream? I'm sorry that I'm so... inadequate, but I—"

"I don't know!" wailed Starscream. "I don't _know_ how!"

Minimus patted him carefully, just with one hand. "What did you think being in love would entail?"

"I thought you'd worship me, and buy me whatever I wanted, and listen to me whenever I talked, and if I needed a getaway car you would _be one_. But—"

"I don't think I can be your getaway car," said Minimus.

"But that was before I knew you!" said Starscream. "I thought you'd be—"

"Bigger," said Minimus, resigned.

"But now I do know you, and you’re gorgeous, and you do give me money, and you do listen to me talk and it's _not enough_!"

Minimus had to catch Starscream's hands, he had to pull them down from Starscream's face, he had to look into Starscream's wild, beautiful optics. "I think," he said, trying to remember anything of any use at all, "that love usually starts by trusting each other."

"Well, then we're fucked!" said Starscream, clutching hard at Minimus' fingers. "I don't trust anyone, and you certainly don't trust me! I'm just some two-bit cold-constructed criminal that you've been saddled with by Primus."

"You're not," Minimus wasn't sure what part of that he could deny. "You—"

"Why did you even come?" Starscream looked away, though his hands clung to Minimus' still. "You probably hate it here. It's dirty. We didn't have any interior designers."

It _was_ dirty. Minimus was having to work hard to avoid looking at the congealed energon in the bottom of the closest discarded cube. "You're right," he admitted. "I don't like it here." 

Starscream's hiccupping, glitching vents intensified. 

"But," said Minimus, firmly, "not because of the decor. I don't like it because I know you feel safer here than you did in my apartment, the place where you _should_ feel safe. I don't like it because it reminds me that I made you feel unwanted."

That slowed Starscream's vents, but he still wasn't looking at Minimus.

Trust. Trust. How did you build trust?

Trust began with vulnerability.

"Can I show you something?" said Minimus.

Starscream nodded, and Minimus cracked open the chassis that hid his irreducible form. He stepped out, wobbling a little as his balance recalibrated. Starscream was looking now. His optics were as wide as dinner plates. "You're even _smaller_?"

Minimus nodded. Then his creaky, underused t-cog whirred into life, and he transformed into his turbofox alt.

"Holy shit," said Starscream.

Minimus peered up at him. He couldn't see as well in this form, but Starscream didn't _smell_ as angry or resentful as a sparkmate should when confronted with the fact that their ordained was a beastformer.

He smelled almost... intrigued.

"Does anyone know?" said Starscream.

"Dominus." Minimus hated the way his voice sounded in alt, his vocalizer made squeaky by the way his organs shifted and compressed. "Probably Rewind. You're the only person I've ever told of my own volition."

"Can I—" Starscream's hands hovered, just as Minimus' had. "Can I touch?"

Minimus did him one better and climbed into Starscream's lap, curling up so he could feel Starscream's spark pulsing hard against his back. Starscream's hand smoothed across the thick metal ruff of his neck.

"Secret beastformer." Starscream choked on a laugh. "At the top of society, on top of the law, rolling in credits—you know hiding your alt mode is a crime?"

"Yes," whispered Minimus. It had burned at him for centuries. He'd wondered, once, if he should tell Tyrest. Self-preservation had won out over honesty. It had won out over the dim hope that Tyrest would—what? Approve of him? Allow him to retain his position? Overlook the failure of his forging?

Beastformers were worse than cold constructs. At least constructs were modelled after real mechs.

"I should hate you," said Starscream. "I've never been able to hide who I am. Could you imagine the scams I could pull if I could step into another mech?"

"Yes," said Minimus. "I think enforcers all over Cybertron can be grateful that you never discovered the technology."

Starscream barked out a laugh. "I could ruin you."

"Yes," said Minimus. "I'm trusting that you won't."

Starscream was quiet for a long time, long enough that Minimus thought perhaps he'd been hypnotized by the slope of his own fingers against Minimus' plating.

"Prowl said you loved me," said Starscream. "Do you?"

Minimus wished he could say yes. He wished the words tripped off his tongue as lightly as they did for Starscream. But it would never do to lie, not now. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know what that feels like, to love someone."

"Yeah," said Starscream. "Yeah. I don't know what I feel either. My spark hurts whenever I look at you. But in a good way, I think? It's weird."

"I can be a better sparkmate," said Minimus. "I won't tell you what to do, I won't force you to go to my brother's awful parties, I won't give you money—"

Starscream's hand tightened on the scruff of Minimus' neck. "Wait, wait, let's not go overboard here. Money isn't the _problem_. Anyway, I liked going to that party. I got to yell at _so_ many rich mechs. I'd do that again."

Minimus felt the urge to bury his nose in Starscream's midriff, to soak up the rich scent of his polish. He resisted only with great effort. "Thank you. I'm sure we can find ways to make that happen."

Starscream petted him again, long strokes that made Minimus' back arch. "I'm sorry if you—If you felt—If you don't want to fuck, we don't have to—"

"I wouldn't say never," said Minimus, hastily. "You'd just have to be patient with me. I haven't previously—that is to say—"

"You haven't?" said Starscream. "Like... at all? Anything?"

"Please," said Minimus. "There's no need to—"

"I don't know if I can handle this responsibility," said Starscream. "I mean, I'm fucking amazing at sex, but what if—"

"All right, are you done in there?" demanded a voice. "Because I heard something about not knowing what love is, and I'll be fucked if I let you pretend we’re not—"

Skywarp burst through the curtain and then skidded to a stop, staring at the pair of them. "Where the fuck did that dog come from?"

"Get the fuck out!" snapped Starscream.

"When did you get a dog!"

"Are they making out in there?" asked Thundercracker. "Is Starscream still pretending that he doesn't love us?"

"Thundercracker!" Skywarp whirled around to shout at the top of his lungs. "He's got a dog!"

Minimus considered the value of either transforming, or burying his head against Starscream's hip and pretending he didn't have a processor.

He chose the latter.

"Holy shit!" said Skywarp. "TC, Minimus is dead!"

"No, he's not!" said Starscream.

"Starscream ripped his chassis open and just _left it_ on the floor!"

"Skywarp, stop yelling, the cops are still here," hissed Thundercracker.

"I'm sorry," said Orion, "did you say Minimus Ambus is _dead_?"

"He's not," began Starscream, "fucking de—"

There was a crashing noise as the door to the apartment was torn off its hinges and thrown across the room, snagging the curtain and ripping it down on its way.

"Starscream!" roared Megatron. "I know you're here!"

"Freeze!" shouted Orion and Prowl, simultaneously.

Minimus squirmed in Starscream's lap, rolling so he could observe the scene. Megatron was frozen in the doorway, holding some kind of gun so large that it might even be called a cannon. Orion and Prowl both had their blasters trained on him. Thundercracker had dived under the broken table. Skywarp was nudging Minimus' discarded frame with his foot.

Minimus felt an almost overwhelming urge to spring up and tear out Megatron’s throat with his teeth. How dare he come here, to the place where Starscream felt safe? How dare he—

But Starscream’s hand was still petting Minimus’ plating, reassuring him, holding him in place.

"Hello, Megatron," purred Starscream. "How kind of you to stop by. Enforcers, I wonder if you'd be interested in meeting the most wanted mech in Iacon?"

"Hmm." Prowl actually smiled. "Yes."

\---

"Your honor," said Arcee, stalking back and forth along the courtroom's small patch of open floor, "the prosecution has not proven its case. Indeed, the prosecution has hardly proven that an arms factory existed, let alone that it was _robbed_."

"No one said I had to prove the factory existed," whined Switchback, from behind the prosecution's desk. "I have a map! Do you want to see the map?"

Arcee held up a hand. "The time for arguments has passed. Now there is only time for the most honorable judge's decision. First, does he believe that Starscream did in fact rob this so-called factory? Second, does he believe that this supposed crime is not outweighed by Starscream's valiant efforts to bring other criminals—such as Megatron of Kaon—to justice? And third, most importantly, does he truly believe that this seeker, this mech, this Starscream should be separated from his sparkmate, his truest love ordained by Primus? Or does he—"

Minimus was distracted from Arcee's argument by the clatter of Starscream's plating. In the accused's cage, Starscream looked as if he were trying to both puff himself up and shrink back in on himself at the same time, making his armor shiver and shake with tension. 

It had always been Minimus' inviolable rule to remain silent during the defense's arguments. To do otherwise would be to disgrace the sanctity of the court. But he weighed that against Starscream's obvious anxiety and found it a miserable pretense.

He leaned over the railing from his place in the gallery and passed his hand through the bars of the cage to touch Starscream's trembling hip. "Don't worry," Minimus murmured. "You'll be fine."

Starscream glanced back and then shook his helm, tight-lipped. "If I go to prison—"

"I'll wait for you," said Minimus. "It'll be all right."

"What if," began Starscream, but Minimus caught his hand, squeezed it until Starscream squeezed back.

"It'll be all right," he repeated. "Do you believe Switchback is in any way a competent prosecutor?"

"No," said Starscream, "he sucks. And I got his wallet while we were in the hallway."

"Starscream—" Minimus bit back his reproof. It wouldn't exactly help Starscream's case if the theft was discovered. "Yes. He sucks. So have confidence in your defense."

Arcee's strident voice rang out across the courtroom. "In conclusion, even if the defendant were guilty of what he has been accused—which I will _not_ concede—perhaps it was fated by Primus that he should liberate those cast-off limbs from the hoard. After all, it was his arrest that brought him to meet his _sparkmate_. “

Minimus felt his biolights flush. He'd discussed the defense with Arcee, and had known that she was going to lean heavily on the judge's romantic sympathies. It didn't make it any less embarrassing. 

"Thank you very much," said the judge, a little orange and white mech with an indeterminate alt mode and thick blue glasses. Minimus couldn’t quite remember his name. "I've heard enough."

Arcee stopped pacing. Starscream's plating stilled. Minimus found that he was holding his breath.

"In the case of Iacon City versus Starscream of Vos," the judge paused to page through a small sheaf of notes, "I find Starscream... not guilty. For reasons of this not seeming like that big of a deal. I can't imagine what he even thought he would do with all those arms."

Immediately, the defendant's cage transformed away, leaving Starscream standing on the open floor of the courtroom. A free mech.

Switchback leapt up. "Your honor! Don't you need time to deliberate?"

The judge frowned. "No, I'm pretty sure I've made up my mind."

"Hah!" Starscream also leapt up, half-dragging Minimus out of his seat by his hand. "In your face!" There was a silence in the court, which seemed to register as disapproval even to Starscream. His wings hiked up, and he waved his finger at the judge. "No take-backsies! I'm innocent!"

"Yes, yes." The judge smiled indulgently. "Just try to celebrate politely."

Starscream nodded, but didn't actually seem to register what he'd been told, because the next thing he did was sweep Minimus up with both hands on his waist, drag him over the gallery railing, and kiss Minimus full on the mouth.

"Please, Starscream," mumbled Minimus, "a little decorum—"

Starscream took the opportunity to give him some tongue. Dimly, Minimus was aware that he was clutching the back of Starscream's helm, wrapping his thighs around Starscream's waist to hold him close. It was completely inappropriate.

How odd, that Minimus didn't care.

"Ahem," said the judge.

Starscream dropped a hand to Minimus' aft.

"Ahem!" said the judge.

Starscream managed to tear himself away from devouring Minimus' face, his lips glistening with Minimus' oral lubricant. "I'm innocent," he repeated, soft and, perhaps rightly, disbelieving. "We should celebrate, like the judge said."

"I agree," said Minimus, feeling a little dazed. "I've already arranged it."

Starscream actually _squeaked_ , his hand tightening on Minimus' aft.

"Not that kind of celebration!" said Minimus, although now he wished it had occurred to him. "We're having a party. A nice one."

"With drinks?" asked Starscream.

"Yes," said Minimus, "with drinks."

"Hey," said Switchback, "has anyone seen my wallet?"

\---

They had the party in a little bar called Macaddam's, in a back room with tasteful music and an open bar. Just enough mechs for Starscream to flit around the room, social and showing off. Just few enough mechs that Minimus felt comfortable, not crushed by a crowd. Dominus and Rewind were there, and Arcee, and Starscream's trine. Prowl and Orion, both riding the high of their commendations for Megatron's arrest, had been more than happy to attend. And there was also Rattrap, for some reason. Minimus had invited Tyrest, but he'd been both disappointed and relieved when his mentor declined without either regrets or explanation. He'd invited Silverwere in Tyrest's place. She seemed to be having a very animated conversation with Thundercracker and Rewind about a new romantic reality show that somehow involved sparkmates and cubicles and elaborate conjunx ceremonies. _Primus Must Be Blind_. It sounded very tedious.

Minimus sat alone at a table, sipping a small dram of triple-filtered engex, and watched as Starscream spun in circles with Skywarp, just out of rhythm to the music. Something warm curled in Minimus spark, a feeling he was becoming better at recognizing, although he hadn't yet found a name for it.

Dominus came and stole Minimus' drink, like the bother (the brother) he always was. "You seem happy," he said. "I wasn't sure if you would be, when the dust settled."

"It took a little work," admitted Minimus. "Rewind gave me some good advice."

"Ah," said Dominus. "He does that a lot." He tipped his (Minimus') glass to Starscream, who was now clutching his side as he leaned against the wall, looking dizzy. "He's a good match for you."

"Yes," said Minimus. "I suppose Primus knows what he's about."

"You're a lucky mech, brother dear." Dominus drained Minimus' glass. "He looks like an amazing kisser."

Minimus winced. "Please don't."

"Just making an observation," said Dominus. "You know, if you ever need it for your anniversary, Rewind has the whole courtroom scene on archival-grade video. High definition. Lovely soundtrack."

Once, Minimus might have endured this painful mockery. Considered it his fraternal duty, or perhaps a penance for imagined slights. But today he was celebrating. 

"Dominus," said Minimus, quietly, carefully, "please fuck off."

Dominus barked a surprised laugh. "See? I told you he was good for you."

Minimus was rescued from saying anything more regrettable by Starscream swirling back into view, in fine and full form again, Rattrap in tow. "Mins! Rattrap has an amazing idea for an investment firm. But I told him we _had_ to do it legally. Can you tell us what forms we need to fill out?"

It was on the tip of Minimus' tongue to tell Starscream no. To tell him that Minimus had no intention of assisting him with his criminal endeavors, no matter how 'legal' he pretended they were. To remind Starscream that they'd _just_ had a whole _trial_.

Instead, he said: "Did you just call me Mins?"

"Yeah?" Starscream looked puzzled. "I've been calling you Mins forever. Like, at least the whole week."

"Oh," said Minimus. He hadn't noticed.

"Does it bother you?" said Starscream. "I can stop."

"Does it _bother_ him?" Dominus laughed. "My dear, Minimus has threatened legal action against me for using a diminutive of his name. Defamation, I think he called it."

Starscream's wings dipped. "I—Mins—I mean, Minimus, I—"

"I don't mind," said Minimus. "Not when you do it."

That warm feeling swelled in Minimus' spark again, and this time he knew its name. "Starscream," he said. "I think I'm in love with you."

"Hggk," said Starscream.

"I told you that already," called Prowl, across the room.

"I'm sorry," said Dominus, "is this news?"

“Fucking adorable,” said Rattrap.

"Kiss!" shouted Skywarp. "Kiss!"

Later, Minimus would watch Rewind's recording of this moment. The way Starscream tentatively leaned across the distance. The way their noses bumped. The way Starscream's wings tensed and settled as his lips met Minimus' own. Not their first kiss, not by any means. But this was a kiss not meant for show, not meant for an audience. It was just for them.

Starscream drew back, his face looking soft and vulnerable. "Hey," he said. "So, if I just want to take people's money, and spend it on things, and then get more people's money so I can pay the first people back, that's legal, right? It's an investment thing. Scheme."

Minimus sighed. He could say no. He should say no. But in the corner of his HUD, there were those few small words, the ones that always hovered in the corner of his vision when Starscream was in sight. _Starscream of Vos_ , they said. _Beloved_.

"It's not _illegal_ ," said Minimus. "Why don’t we discuss it later? I brought cake, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

“Okay.” Starscream smiled. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments very appreciated! You can also share this on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/neveralarch/status/1237470253258608640), [Tumblr](https://neveralarch.tumblr.com/post/612232595104776192/twenty-five-to-life-neveralarch-the), or [DW](https://neveralarch.dreamwidth.org/105713.html). Thanks!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bring the Club Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26392462) by [neveralarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch)




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